#leather suit copia

[copiasslut]

⛧ Into your sanctum, you let them in ⛧

[copiasslut]

I wish we got more leather suit Copia content cause oh my fucking godddd I’m feral for it

The leather suit absolutely stays on during- 🤤

they were fucking insane when they put him in leather

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 18th - Thigh Riding (Cardinal Copia x Female!Reader)

Tags: Thigh Riding, Naked Female/Clothed Male, Sex Therapy, Praise, Innocence Kink, Squirting, 3rd Person POV

It was in the chambers of his eminence, Cardinal Copia Emeritus, that she would find solace on most nights. He was trustworthy, a friend to everyone, the easiest to come to for comfort in uncertain times. He knew well how to quell her nerves.

It started with just confessional, but only the afternoons where he would be on duty. He always knew just what to say. But when that wasn't enough, too little time in the day, she asked to meet him in his private domicile, for more personal, in depth chats. He obliged, of course, how could he refuse? Anything for this sweet, young Sister, whom he's grown ever so close to.

It was innocent, just chatting. Talks of anxieties, work stress, your average, day to day worries. The more he prodded for her to open up, the more she did. The talks progressed into that of her love and sex life, or rather, her lack thereof. She hadn't laid with another warm body in quite some time now. Her insecurities and low self-image depleted her sex drive, and her lack of confidence made it so she was mortified of the idea of anyone seeing her nude. Now, the Cardinal couldn't have one of his devoted followers feeling like that, he had a reputation to uphold!

Mentions of a so-called 'sex therapy' started to be brought up into conversation. When she innocently asked how much it was for a session he laughed and assured her it's not like regular therapy, in fact, it wouldn't cost her a dime. The concept is to pick a person whom you already know and trust more than anyone else to do this kind of thing with.

With both parties consent, you would let the other person (AKA your 'therapist') slowly get you comfortable with the idea of sex by building up intimate acts, little by little. Like just being naked around one another, for starters. That could build up to sensual massages, dirty talking, groping more explicit areas of the body, fingering, and ultimately it would lead up to sex. Boundaries and a safe word are set in place just in case, but things should rarely if ever go too far too quickly. When she expressed interest, who do you think she asked to assist her? Exactly who the Cardinal had hoped.

It went on for weeks, building slowly as he had promised. Their sessions were successful every time, Copia being a very attentive and gentle partner. It made her feel safe, valued, in tune with her own desires for the first time in many months. In todays session, they tried something different, but it was her favorite one by far. The pleasures of grinding.

She was naked, while he remained fully clothed, clad in his favorite black suit. The reasoning was to get her to be more comfortable with vulnerability, not being so nervous to be the first one unclothed. That, and he promised her grinding her clit against the fabric of his pants would feel unreal. He also wanted his work clothes to be dampened and tainted with the stench of her arousal for the rest of the day, but that was an unspoken, more selfish reason.

Her drags along his clothed thigh were meager, unsure of herself. It was clear she didn't know quite what she was doing. And while her naivety was as charming as ever, he saw by the look in her eyes she wasn't enjoying this. "Do you need your Cardinal to teach you, topolina? Do you need me to take the reigns for a little bit?" He cooed, in a way that somehow didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Copia had a way with his tone that made his words unimportant. She agreed, full faith in her beloved Cardinal.

He shifts his leg at a certain angle and flexes his thigh to make the experience more pleasurable. Leather bound hands resting at her hips, he begins to rock her slowly, her clit catching against the roughness of his jeans. Her slick gathers and leaves a wet trail across his pant leg where moved her. Exactly what he wanted to see. The way he did it was indeed a way better feeling, her eyes fluttering shut gently, soft little sighs and whimpers escaping her lips.

"There you go," He encouraged. "Let me make you feel good." Everything admittedly felt better when the Cardinal was in control. His voice was velvety and intoxicating, his hands were like magic, his movements were inhumanly perfect. He was unmatched to any other man in regards of sexual prowess, any other man she'd ever been with anyway.

The more she rocked, the wetter she got, the dark patch on his jeans just getting bigger and bigger. Soon enough she was able to guide herself, getting a firm grip on his shoulders and grinding on her own subconsciously. His hands slowly lifted from her sides, like taking off training wheels, putting them to the side. Her humping grows more bold, putting more force into really putting the pressure on her clit. Her moans grew louder too, without her even realizing, too lost in the feeling. She mewled Copias title, still has not once gained the confidence to call him by his first name, despite the professionalism being quite unnessacary. One day she will, and it will be while she's cumming around his cock.

"Cardinal, Cardinal..." She fawned breathlessly. Her riding becoming more insistent, voice sounding like what could almost be mistaken for a tone of distress. She was close, barely hanging on to the edge. Still, something was stopping her from teetering off. She needed some encouragement, poor little thing. And as always, whatever she needed, the Cardinal could provide.

"Doing so well, sweet girl. It feels nice, doesn't it?" He purrs. Her thighs shake. "I know. You've been doing everything right, you just gotta do one more thing for me. Just let go, topolina. Allow yourself to cum. Coat your Cardinal in your sweet nectar. Won't you do that for me?" The coil snaps, her little death arriving as quickly as it approached, flooding all her senses and making a mess of his fine clothes.

He holds her close, soothing her as she shakes and shivers, the intensity from the release she's denied herself for months was debilitating. She definitely needed some extra long time to recover from this one, unable to stand since her legs were now Jello, and extra aftercare as well. And he was more than willing to provide such, snacks, kisses, and back rubs galore. Whatever his little mouse needs. But as much as he loves to provide, he can wait till she leaves, so he can at last deal with this damned infuriatingly painful tent throbbing in his pants.

-

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 28 - Uniform

Brother Imperator x Reader

Copia got his promotion to head of the clergy, and with it a new uniform. And you couldn’t keep your hands off him.

Masterlist �� Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 5.1k.

Reading Time: 21 min.

Warnings: creampie, PIV sex, public sex, thigh riding, vaginal sex, uniform kink, unprotected sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The moment your eyes met his, you knew you were in trouble. For the first time in ages, he’d stripped back the elaborate paints, leaving only the faintest hint of kohl around his eyes, allowing every distinguished line and angle of his face to shine through. His new look was a vision—his smart uniform a departure from the traditional Papal robes, but no less commanding. The suit was a sleek, modern twist on his usual regalia: rich black fabric that hugged his form perfectly, every seam tailored to emphasize his broad shoulders and lean frame. A single, dark blazer sat unbuttoned and fell neatly at the waist, held together by two ruby pins that caught the light like blood-red flames. From them both, a diamond-studded grucifix dangled just over his upper abdomen, the glittering charm drawing your gaze with a dangerous allure. His look was seductive yet regal, an intimidating blend of elegance and dark charm. You could hardly breathe as he approached, each step deliberate, with a knowing glint in his eye that told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you.

He stepped forward, arms slowly outstretched, his hands still gloved in that familiar, supple leather. The movement itself was an invitation—a silent command to take him in, to fully appreciate the figure standing before you. He said nothing, but the slight tilt of his head and a quiet, almost shy hum conveyed, “This is the new me.” And the transformation was powerful. Gone was the ornate guise of Papa; here stood Frater Copia Imperator, every inch of him exuding authority and confidence, as if the Ministry itself had reshaped to match his presence. The old robes had held him back, binding him to tradition, but this—this new look—carried the weight of true dominion. His domain, his rules, and he seemed to bask in it, his gaze dark and intent, as though savoring the scope of his control.

This wasn’t just Copia; it was Copia unleashed, finally embracing his true place. Like Lucifer reigning over Hell, he was perfectly in his element, ready to rule with an intensity that sent a thrill through your core.

You, however, were too thrilled about his new uniform to even consider the consequences of this promotion. You just wanted that chain dangling in your face as he -

“I don’t know who the new Papa is yet,” Copia told you, pulling you out of your horny musings. “Apparently he will be arriving soon, but I don’t know.”

Copia’s words pulled you out of your daze, but only for a moment. That glint in his eye, the way his fingers traced the edge of the ruby pin on his blazer—it stirred something deeper. You tried to refocus, to keep your thoughts on his words instead of the sinful path your mind had wandered down. But when he shifted, the delicate grucifix on its diamond-studded chain swayed, catching the light and drawing your gaze right back to it, and him.

“Hmm,” he murmured, watching you closely, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “Seems like I’ve already lost you.” He stepped in closer, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your chin, bringing your gaze up to meet his. His thumb traced a slow circle along your jaw, the leather sending a shiver through you. “Were you even listening to me, tesoro?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words tangled as he leaned in, the chain now dangling just above your lips. He lowered himself even closer, enough that his breath warmed your skin. “Distracted, hm?” he whispered, voice as smooth and dark as velvet. “Or is it something else you’re interested in?”

With an amused tilt of his head, he straightened just slightly, but his grip on your chin remained firm. The chain hovered enticingly between you both, and the glint of the rubies seemed to cast a soft, scarlet hue over his eyes. “What were you thinking about just now?” he teased, his voice low, drawing out the words with a lazy, knowing tone.

Your heart raced as you felt yourself flush under his gaze. He let his gloved thumb slip down, tracing your lower lip, his smile deepening as you trembled under his touch.

The restraint you’d been trying so hard to keep shattered in an instant. Words wouldn’t cut it now; only action would. Before he could utter another teasing word, you launched yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his blazer as you pressed your body flush against his. He barely had time to gasp, his eyes widening before they darkened with a raw hunger of his own.

The chain swung between you, grazing against your chest as you pressed him against the wall, your lips crashing into his with all the ferocity of pent-up desire. He gave a low, muffled moan, hands moving to grip your waist, steadying himself as you pinned him there. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your gaze fierce and unwavering.

“Oh,” he breathed, voice rough and laced with amusement. “Not even going to tell me what you want first? Just taking it, eh?” His smirk was devilish, eyes hooded as he leaned forward, lips brushing your jawline. “As bold as ever, tesoro.”

Your fingers slid down, finding the clasp of his belt, your intentions laid bare in the determined way you worked it open. He sucked in a sharp breath, his gloved hands sliding up your sides, encouraging you, grounding himself in the pressure of your touch.

“Here?” he murmured, glancing around the empty corridor but not looking the least bit reluctant. “Right here in the open, where anyone could see?” His voice dripped with exhilaration at the idea. The thrill in his eyes was unmistakable as he tugged you even closer, his hands roving possessively over your body.

“Oh, let them,” you whispered, pressing a fierce kiss to his throat as his head fell back. “I refuse to wait any longer.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest at your words, and any remaining control he had snapped. With a rough pull, he reversed your positions, pinning you back against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours. His gaze bore into you, pupils blown wide with desire, the gleam of his chain catching the dim light as it swung between you both. He brought a gloved hand up, tracing it down the side of your face, down your throat, finally stopping to rest on your collarbone, his fingers curling just enough to feel your pulse racing under his touch.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The heat of him, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint leather from his gloves, was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses as he kissed his way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.

With one swift movement, he slipped a leg between yours, pressing his thigh against you as his hands found your waist, holding you firmly against him. The friction, even through your clothing, was electric, sending shockwaves through you. He smirked against your neck, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “Look at you,” he whispered, his tone darkly amused as he ground his thigh ever so slightly, “already unraveling for me, and I’ve barely even started.”

You tightened your grip on his blazer, feeling your resolve slipping away completely. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, daring him, your voice rough with need.

He chuckled, his lips curving against your skin. “Oh, I won’t.” His voice dropped lower, every word a promise. “But I’m going to take my time with you, right here. Let every inch of this place echo with the sounds of us.” His fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to brush against your bare skin, igniting every nerve with his touch.

As his mouth claimed yours once more, his kiss was slower, more intense, his movements deliberate as if he wanted to make you feel every second of it. His gloved hand moved to your chest, thumb brushing over your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed eagerly. The thrill of the forbidden, the possibility of being caught, only seemed to drive him further, his kiss growing deeper, more insistent, as his hands roamed possessively over you, leaving no inch of you untouched.

And as he pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, a wicked gleam in his gaze, he leaned in close and whispered, “By the time I’m done, tesoro, everyone here will know exactly who you belong to.”

Your movements grew more desperate, grinding against his thigh as his hands roamed your body, each touch and squeeze lighting you up in ways you hadn’t felt in so long. He held you firmly, almost possessively, his fingers digging into your hips to guide your movements, pressing you harder against him with each roll of your body. His breathing grew heavier, his lips never far from your skin, leaving trails of hot, lingering kisses down your neck.

His gloved hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your clothes, his fingers brushing over your skin with a tantalizing slowness that made you shudder. He paused there, his mouth close to your ear as he murmured, “Look at you, so eager for me.” His voice was low, laced with a dark amusement that sent a thrill through you, making you push against him harder, needing the friction, needing him.

Copia chuckled, dark and deep, his thigh pressing up with just the right pressure, making you gasp. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” His hand traced back up, gliding over your chest, fingers grazing the sensitive spots he knew so well, making your head spin. “You want more?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, his eyes gleaming with a devilish satisfaction as he watched your reaction.

“Please…” you breathed, barely able to form words under his touch.

He smirked, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a mockingly tender gesture. “That’s it,” he purred. “I want to hear you beg for it, right here. Let everyone know what you need from me.”

The sheer thrill of his demand had you trembling against him, and as his thigh pressed harder, his fingers digging into your skin, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You moaned softly, moving against him with wild abandon, feeling him take in every sound, every shiver as his mouth claimed yours again, consuming you in a searing, possessive kiss that left you aching for more.

The pressure built until it was overwhelming, each roll of your hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His thigh pressed firmly against you, his hand gripping your waist with just enough force to ground you yet keep you spiraling. His mouth was at your neck, lips moving hot and slow, and you felt yourself unraveling, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happened—a rush of pleasure crashing over you, your body trembling as you came right there, held in place by his hands and the unrelenting press of his thigh. The intensity left you breathless, your fingers clutching his blazer, as though clinging to him was the only thing keeping you steady.

He groaned softly as he felt you shudder against him, his gaze darkening with satisfaction. “There we go,” he murmured, his tone rich with pride and something even deeper, a possessive glint in his eye. “Just like that, tesoro.”

His hand stroked your back in lazy, soothing circles as you caught your breath, barely able to comprehend what you’d just done, right there in the middle of the corridor. But he didn’t look the least bit surprised—in fact, he seemed thrilled, his gaze roving over you with a smug sense of accomplishment.

Before you could say a word, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Now, shall we continue somewhere more… private? I’m far from finished with you.”

“I refuse to wait any longer,” you panted. “Please just fuck me, Copia.”

A flash of something dark and eager crossed his face, and before you could even draw another breath, he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall with a controlled urgency that made your pulse quicken. His fingers hooked into the gusset of your panties, pulling them aside with a rough, unhesitating motion, his other hand already freeing himself from his trousers.

The moment was electric, charged with a tension that had been building too long. He didn’t waste another second, aligning himself and pressing into you in one smooth, deep thrust that stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation was overwhelming, his heat and weight pressing you firmly into the wall, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel as if you might float away. His grip on your hips was strong, possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to leave you tingling.

He held himself there for a heartbeat, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he felt you wrapped around him. Then, his grip tightened, and he began to move, his thrusts slow at first, deliberate, each one sinking in deeply, pulling another soft, breathy moan from you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, words punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts. “So needy, couldn’t wait another second… I love it when you’re this desperate for me.”

His pace quickened, his hands sliding up your waist, holding you in place as he took what you’d so eagerly asked for, his hips snapping forward with a building intensity. Each thrust seemed to drive him deeper, his control slipping as he gave in to the pleasure, his breaths ragged in your ear as he pushed you toward that blissful edge once more.

His movements became more urgent, each thrust driving you harder against the wall, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing through the corridor. You could feel every inch of him inside you, stretching and filling you, and it only heightened your desire, pushing you closer to the brink without letting you fall over.

“Copia…” you gasped, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding eagerly to every thrust, every shudder that ran through you as he rocked into you. He felt impossibly good, and the way he held you—his grip possessive yet tender—made you ache for more.

His lips found their way to your neck, hot against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited every nerve ending. “That’s right, tesoro,” he murmured, his breath warm against you, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me hear you. Let me know how much you want this.”

You moaned softly, pushing back against him instinctively, seeking more friction, more of that delicious pressure building within you. He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your eagerness, and he quickened his pace just slightly, teasing you with the promise of more without granting you release.

“You want it harder?” he taunted, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You’ll have to earn it. Show me how badly you need it.”

With that, he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your head spin. The sensation was electric, and you gasped, feeling the heat pool low in your belly, but he was relentless, holding you right there on the precipice, teasing you with his control. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, building tension but denying you the sweet release you craved.

“Sathanas, you’re beautiful like this,” he breathed, his eyes dark with desire, locking onto yours as he continued to push you further into bliss. “So responsive… so fucking perfect.”

You writhed against him, desperate and aching, needing more, but he held you firmly in place, a wicked grin on his lips as he relished in your frustration, taking his time to savour every moment.

With a swift, commanding motion, he pulled out, leaving you breathless and wanting. The abruptness of it sent a shiver through you, a mix of anticipation and urgency swelling in your chest. “Get down,” he ordered, his voice low and firm, eyes darkened with desire.

You didn’t hesitate, the need to obey overriding any hesitation. You sank down onto the cool corridor floor, the surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. As you lay back, your heart raced, both from the thrill of his command and the way his gaze devoured you, hungry and insatiable.

Copia moved over you, his body looming above like a dark, predatory silhouette. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open for him, the intensity of his stare sending jolts of excitement through you. “I want to see you,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust as he lined himself up once more.

With a sharp thrust, he entered you again, deeper this time, and you gasped as he filled you completely. The weight of him pressed you into the floor, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the chain hanging from his neck swing and sway tantalizingly in front of your face, glimmering in the dim light.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, locking eyes with him as he drove into you, his expression a mix of pleasure and authority. The force of his movements sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, his body perfectly in sync with yours, creating a heady rhythm that left you gasping and wanting more.

“You’re mine,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust, the intensity in his voice matched only by the way he filled you. The chain danced tantalizingly close, swaying with every forceful movement, a physical manifestation of his power and control. You could hardly think, lost in the delicious friction and the way he possessed you, your body responding to every demanding push, every glorious pull.

Each powerful thrust brought the chain closer, its cool metal brushing against your cheek and lips, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sensation was maddening, and you could hardly focus on anything else—the rhythm of his hips, the way he moved inside you, the intoxicating sight of him looming over you, chain swinging with every thrust, an emblem of his dominance.

As he continued to thrust into you, the chain swinging tantalizingly closer, you felt an overwhelming urge to taste him, to take in every part of him that you could. Your gaze fixed on the diamond grucifix dangling from his neck, the cool metal glimmering in the low light, and a wicked idea sparked in your mind.

With a quick movement, you reached up, grabbing the chain and pulling it closer to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the grucifix, sucking on it as if it were his cock, the sharp, metallic taste mingling with the heat radiating off your body. It felt deliciously forbidden, a bold display of your need for him, and you could see the surprise flicker in his eyes, quickly replaced by something darker—hunger.

Copia’s thrusts stuttered for a moment, the sight of you eagerly sucking on the chain driving him wild. “Is that what you want, tesoro?” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, as he regained his rhythm. “You want to worship me like this?”

You nodded, still sucking on the grucifix, letting your tongue glide over the smooth surface, teasing it as you would with his cock. The action sent a thrill through him, and he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more forceful, each movement pushing the grucifix deeper into your mouth, forcing you to take in more of the chain, feeling it cold against your lips.

The sensation was intoxicating, and the combination of his deep thrusts and the way you worshipped the grucifix left you breathless. You could feel the tension coiling within you, the line between pleasure and desperation blurring as you surrendered completely to the moment.

Copia’s breath grew ragged, each thrust driving him closer to his own climax. “That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his voice a mix of praise and urgency, each word sending heat coursing through you. “You’re perfect for this—such a good little pet.”

As he thrust deeper, you felt an insatiable urge rising within you, an overwhelming desire to amplify the pleasure coursing through your body. With your lips still wrapped around the grucifix, you let out a low, muffled moan that reverberated against the cool metal. The sound sent shivers of pleasure racing through you, echoing in the dimly lit corridor, as you began to touch yourself.

Your fingers moved eagerly between your legs, seeking out that sweet spot that had been yearning for attention. The sensation of your own fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, combined with the rhythmic pounding of his hips, sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you. You could feel every pulse of his thrusts inside you, each one making your fingers tingle with excitement as you rubbed your clit with a fervor that matched the intensity of the moment.

Copia’s gaze was fixated on you, his dark eyes blazing with hunger as he watched you pleasure yourself while he drove into you. “Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking desperate for it. Don’t stop, tesoro. Let me hear you.”

You obeyed, your moans spilling out around the grucifix as you continued to suck on it, the metal a reminder of his dominance. Each thrust met your fingers moving with urgency, and you could feel the pressure building, both inside and outside, intertwining in a way that threatened to consume you whole.

“Good girl,” he praised, his pace becoming even more erratic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the corridor. “You’re going to make me lose control, you know that? I want you to come for me while I’m buried deep inside you.”

The heat pooling low in your belly swelled, and you felt your body responding to his words, an electric thrill coursing through your veins. You moaned louder around the grucifix, the combination of your own touch, his powerful thrusts, and the deliciously forbidden act of sucking on the chain pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

With every movement, you lost yourself further in the blissful haze of pleasure, the world narrowing down to just the two of you—his thrusts, your moans, the grucifix swinging gently in the air, and the desperate need to feel him fill you completely as you chased that sweet release.

The pressure inside you reached a crescendo, building to an almost unbearable peak as you continued to work your fingers frantically, the urgency of your movements intensifying. You could feel every thrust from Copia, each one driving you closer to that edge, and the sweet sound of your moans around the grucifix only heightened your need.

Then, as if a dam had broken, the pleasure erupted within you like a tidal wave. The orgasm washed over you, more powerful than anything you had ever experienced before, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. Your body trembled as the waves of ecstasy surged through you, making your toes curl and your back arch off the floor. You cried out around the grucifix, the sound mingling with the raw desire in the air, echoing through the corridor as you surrendered completely to the bliss.

Copia’s grip tightened on your thighs, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he felt your body clench around him, your orgasm pulling him closer to the edge. The sensation of you coming around him was overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but thrust deeper, seeking his own release even as he reveled in the way your body reacted to him.

“Fuck, yes!” he gasped, his voice a mix of awe and lust, completely enthralled by the sight of you lost in pleasure beneath him. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

As you rode the waves of your orgasm, you could feel your body pulsing around him, milking him with each spasm. The sensation heightened your pleasure even further, and the heat radiating from him added to the intoxicating mix. You let out one final, guttural moan, the sound echoing off the walls, as your body trembled in the aftermath of your release.

With each thrust, Copia felt the tension coiling tightly within him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he watched you ride the waves of your orgasm, completely lost in ecstasy. The sight of you—your body trembling beneath him, fingers still working furiously at your clit—drove him wild, urging him closer to his own release. He could feel the tightness of your walls clenching around him, coaxing him into that sweet abyss, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through his entire body.

“Sathanas,” he groaned, his voice thick with need, the intensity of the moment washing over him. “I can’t hold on any longer.” He thrust harder, the urgency in his movements increasing, desperation fueling his every action. Each powerful push drove him deeper, bringing him closer to the edge, and he couldn’t help but lose himself in the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

As the world around him faded away, all he could focus on was you—your beauty, your moans, the way your body responded to him. “I’m coming,” he breathed, just before his release crashed over him like a tidal wave.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, the heat of his body merging with yours as he let go completely. He came hard, filling you with a warmth that spread through your core, the sensation of him spilling inside you pushing you back toward the edge once more. You gasped in shock and delight at the feeling, a mixture of his release and your own, amplifying the bliss that coursed through you both.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction, as he rode out the waves of his climax, his body trembling as he remained anchored deep within you. The weight of him pressing down, combined with the warmth of his release, wrapped around you like a cocoon, leaving you both breathless and euphoric.

For a moment, time stood still as you lay there together, lost in the aftermath of your pleasure, the connection between you both tangible and electric. The corridor felt like your own private sanctuary, filled with the remnants of your shared ecstasy, and as you looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of what he could give you.

As Copia pulled out of you, the warmth of his body lingered in the cool corridor, leaving you both breathless and delightfully spent. He turned to lay beside you, a satisfied grin plastered across his face, the glow of post-coital bliss still evident in his eyes. The corridor felt like a world of its own, the thrill of what had just happened hanging in the air like a sultry fog.

Just as he was about to tuck himself away, a Brother of Sin strolled by, nonchalantly whistling a tune under his breath. You both froze, eyes wide, as he paused, glancing down at Copia. With an exaggerated eyebrow raise, he took in the scene before him: the disheveled state of both of you, the lingering signs of passion, and, of course, Copia’s still-exposed cock, glistening slightly in the dim light.

“Frater… Sorella,” the Brother acknowledged with a casual nod of his head, a smirk creeping across his lips. His eyes danced with amusement as he continued, “Looks like you’ve had a productive meeting, eh?”

Copia, ever the dramatic one, flushed a deep crimson, sputtering for words as he scrambled to cover himself. “I—I was just—uh, discussing… duties! Yes, very important duties!” he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

The Brother chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking, “Don’t let me interrupt your… practical training. Just remember, we have a reputation to uphold!” His voice trailed off, the mischievous tone lingering in the air.

Copia groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes in embarrassment, while you burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy of the moment. “Oh, this is just perfect!” you said, still giggling at the absurdity of it all. “Only us, right?”

Copia rolled onto his side, still flustered but unable to hide his own laughter. “At least I know my meetings are memorable,” he replied, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Next time, I’ll try to keep my—” he gestured vaguely at himself, “—professionalism intact.”

“Or maybe just find a more private location?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He chuckled, the embarrassment fading as the moment turned into yet another inside joke between you, the warmth of shared pleasure and laughter mingling together in the most delightful way.

Copia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, is that so?” he replied, leaning on one elbow to look at you, his expression a mix of feigned outrage and amusement. “I would like to remind you that this location was your idea!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a bright sound that echoed off the corridor walls. “Well, I didn’t think we’d have an audience today!” you shot back, unable to suppress the grin on your face. “It’s not my fault that you have a penchant for the dramatic, Frater.”

“Dramatic?” he feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “I prefer to call it enthusiastic! Just look at how well it turned out!” He gestured around the corridor, as if the very walls would applaud his romantic choices.

With a dramatic flourish, he added, “It’s not every day you get to mix duty with a little… extracurricular activity.” He winked, his confidence returning, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“Extracurricular, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you quipped, nudging him playfully.

“Absolutely!” he replied, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness. “And let it be known: I am fully committed to the role of dedicated educator in our… field studies.”

“Right. I’m sure the Ministry will be thrilled to hear about your ‘educational’ methods,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just try to keep it down next time, or we might end up with more than just curious Brothers wandering by.”

“Deal! But no promises if the curriculum gets a little… intense,” he winked, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, and you both burst into laughter once again.

Prev./Next

[writingjourney]

bound by lace | cardinal copia x f!reader

summary: after mercilessly teasing you at papa’s birthday dinner, the cardinal can't have you sneaking away from him.

content: 2.8k words, f!reader, dom!cardinal, panty-sniffing, public boners, (semi) public sex, spanking, gagging, mild degradation, praise, rough sex, white suit copia, he’s a bit of a pervert here, they're established, 18+ MDNI

This is what happens when @leezlelatch tells me to write a "short" warmup drabble – I spend two days writing purely self-indulgent filth. You should also check out her fic!

Masterlist – Ao3 link

By now you’re certain that he’s not wearing any underwear. 

You’ve been watching the Cardinal for a few minutes now as he’s palming himself under the table, a black-gloved hand massaging his cock that’s trapped by the tight fabric of his white suit. He can’t take his eyes off of you, his head turned into your direction to make sure you know exactly what or who he’s thinking about. 

You regret that you let him have a say in the seating arrangements. The round tables have been spread out in the courtyard to allow enough space for Papa’s private circle to celebrate his birthday with an opulent outdoor dinner party. As Papa’s personal assistant it would be considered impertinent of you to disappear from the party until dinner is officially over and he knows it. His own position allows the Cardinal a seat at the table with Papa himself whom he entertains from time to time but does not seem to actually listen to. The way your seats are angled gives you a prime view of the Cardinal’s lap – and his stiff cock.

No one else is privy to his actions, distracted by rosemary-marinated steaks and casual conversation. You, however, have been shifting in your seat ever since he started his performance. After not having seen him all day you’ve been plagued by indecent thoughts about his body. He’s been ignoring all of your desperate texts – only to show up in the tight white suit that he knows has your brain shutting down on sight. It’s a game for him, really, and with every flick of his wrist, his smirk only grows wider.

Conversation at your own table flows easily. Instead of participating you’re trying to grind at the edge of the chair for at least some friction, rubbing your thighs together as inconspicuously as possible. The Cardinal’s brows pull together when he sees this, his hand tightly gripping his erection, giving you a little show as he pushes his hips into his hand. You fight the urge to moan at the sight, wriggling on your chair until by accident your panties catch, slipping down your hips by just an inch.

You shift again and again until the fabric fully slides down your ass. Hidden by the white tablecloth, you hike up your skirts, then pull your already dripping underwear down and bunch it up in your fist. When he turns his head to observe your miserable hip-wiggles again, you risk throwing the lacy bundle in his direction from under the table. They land right next to his white leather shoe, the wet patch resting on its pointy tip where anyone could see them if they knew what to look for. His gaze drops down and at the realisation of what exactly you gifted him his eyes widen. Two can play this game, Cardinal. 

You watch with a suppressed giggle as he drops his napkin with a loud whoops and picks it up, hooking his gloved pinkie into your panties. Hidden behind the heavy white fabric that is stained with black lipstick marks he brings them to his face, stopping right underneath his beautiful straight nose. Your eyes widen as he pretends to clean his mouth, taking a deep breath through your underwear that has his chest rising and falling heavily in his tight suit. He catches your eyes just after his exhale and grins at your shocked expression. While he brings the napkin back to rest beside his empty plate, the panties fall into his lap. You can see his hard cock twitching at the contact, straining the unforgiving material of his pants in a way that looks more painful the harder he gets.

You hear a deep cough and look back to his face, his smirk pulling the corners of his mouth up to emphasise the delicious blush that has now spread over his freckled cheeks. He’s so very handsome, so very aware of his effect on you. Almost sensually, he trails his fingers from his belly down to his groin, hiding the panties in his hand and rubbing them over his cock. His eyes close for a moment, his lips parting in an inaudible sigh as he drags them over his bulge again and again. When he finally pushes them into his pocket, they leave a wet stain running along the seam of his crotch.

It’s enough. You can’t keep sitting here watching him while you drip into your dress. Fleeing the scene seems safe – he would not dare to stand up now, showing a whole table of Papas and Sister what’s going on in his pants. As soon as his attention leaves you momentarily, you slip away with an excuse to use the bathroom. For a few seconds you hurry down the cool hallways, the skirt of your dress billowing behind you and allowing a gentle breeze to caress your inner thighs. You have to stop and think to locate the nearest bathroom, but you’re not even close when you hear rapid footsteps behind you, flat heels clicking familiarly on old stone tiles.

You don’t even have enough time to turn around before he’s pulling you into his chest, stifling your surprised scream with his gloved hand. His erection is poking into your ass and he rolls his hips against you, practically humping you from behind.

“You think you can run away after this little show, rattino?” he murmurs. “Leave me sitting there in pain while you sneak away to steal your pleasure from me?”

You can’t help but moan against his fingers. With his arm slung around your waist, he drags you a few steps down the hall, his fingers on your mouth now sliding between your lips and pressing down on your tongue. Impatiently, he pushes you into an alcove that houses an expensive bronze statue based on the Lupa Capitolina. Only instead of a she-wolf the metal was molded into a three-headed hellhound nursing her puppies.

When you start to suck on his fingers, desperate for his attention now, he immediately pulls them out and tuts. “You don’t get to taste me, rattino, not even the leather on my hands.”

His tone draws a pathetic whimper from your mouth. The Cardinal has no mercy. With one hand digging into the meat of your hips, he holds you in place before you can feel the fingers of his other hand sprawling out on your back. For a moment he gently caresses your spine but then he suddenly pushes, bending you over the statue while grinding his hips into yours. You both moan at the feeling, the sound reverberating in the hallway at an alarming volume.

“They’re going to come looking for us,” you whisper. “Please, can we go somewhere else?”

“No no no, I won’t let you run again. You better be quiet, sorella, I know how loud you can get.” You can feel his hand moving between your bodies, fiddling with his pants. “So naughty, throwing your underwear at your Cardinal, teasing him like this in front of our Papa. You were not worried anyone would notice then, no? Did you want to embarrass me?”

You shake your head and rest your warm cheek on the cool metal of the statue.

“Words, rattino, or I will leave you bent over here for the rest of the night.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “No, Cardinal, I did not want to embarrass you. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm, you are, eh?” He starts to rut again, his hard cock rubbing against your ass cheeks through the soft fabric of your dress. “Tell me why you did it, dolcezza, and maybe I will reward you for your courage.”

“I wanted to tease you back,” you admit. “Seeing you so hard for me was torture. You tortured me with your tight suit and your– your cock.”

He chuckles at your silly outburst. “You are not very patient, amore. Do you not trust me to take care of you in due time?”

“I need you. I needed you all day.”

He gives a melodic hum as he runs his hand from your back down to your ass, hiking your skirts up until you can feel the cool air against your bare cheeks. “That is a good reason, dolcezza. I will allow it for today.”

His sudden need to converse with you is slowly driving you insane. You push back into him, trying to get him to move, but all he does is grip your hips as tight as he can while his other hand rains down on your butt in a hard slap. The impact echoes loudly in the hollow alcove and you yelp, holding onto the neck of the hound to avoid sliding off its back.

“Ah, I did not say there would be no punishment.”

“’s too loud,” you whine.

“You’re right, I think I should fill that big mouth of yours, rattino.” He chuckles deviously. “And lucky for me you gave me the perfect thing.”

He pulls away to the point where you can’t feel him anymore and lose him in your peripheral vision. But before you can complain he roughly shoves your panties into your mouth. You can feel the cold wet patch against your tongue, the fabric quickly soaking up your spit.

“You know what our sign is, amore, yes?” he asks softly. You dutifully tap your fingers against the metal of the statue three times. “Brava ragazza. Now I will not hear another sound from you until you have received your punishment, okie dokie? I think five more will do.”

You nod and he gently runs his gloved hand over your ass, caressing the spot he just hit. 

“You already had numero uno and since your mouth is ugh… occupied… this time I will count them for you, yes?” He gives you one more soft caress and then his hand comes down again, lower this time, the sound barely muffled by the leather of his gloves. It doesn’t hurt as much as his bare hands and yet you feel the sting so clearly that you bite into your makeshift gag. “Due.”

After this, he switches hands, his weaker left palm meeting your ass with slightly less force. Despite being in a more sequestered area of the abbey, you fell incredibly exposed and it only adds to the wild cocktail of pleasure and pain.

“Tre.”

A short break in which he soothes your skin with the soft leather. He gives you no warning before he strikes you two times in quick succession and you fight off a whimper by biting harder into the fabric in your mouth. No sounds, he’d said. He rewards you with an appreciative hum. 

“Quattro e cinque.” Again, he soothes your skin, using his other hand to tickle your thigh. “You are doing so good, dolcezza, such a good little rat for your Cardinal. Just one more now.”

For the last one, he uses his right hand again. It’s the heaviest blow, aimed so low that you can feel the impact in your throbbing cunt as you slide further up the statue.

“Sei.”

You exhale through your nose and close your eyes, revelling in the burning sensation of your skin and the pleasure that’s pooling into your core.

“You know, this color is even more beautiful than your blush when I rubbed your panties over my cock,” the Cardinal says behind you with a chuckle and then you feel his lips on your ass. He presses a few gentle kisses to your abused skin, soothing with his tongue. His mouth travels all the way up to your lower back until he’s stopped by your dress. “Are you ready for me now, dolcezza? You are dripping all over your thighs.”

You whimper desperately at his words. He’s been avoiding your pussy on purpose but now you can feel his finger probing at your slick entrance, spreading out your arousal. A soft hum of relief leaves you at the contact, the sound of his zipper filling your ears like a choir of angels singing their heavenly praise. 

He wastes no more time, slowly easing himself into your drenched cunt. After the long wait, the stretch feels so good that your eyelids flutter closed. For all his teasing, he must have been on edge as well because once he bottoms out, a strangled groan bubbles from his chest and his fingers dig into your hips with a bruising intensity.

“So good,” he whispers. “So f-fucking good, amore. Cazzo.”

And then he starts to move. The first thrust sends you flying halfway across the statue and you wrap your arms around its belly, chafing your finger on one of the edges. The Cardinal doesn’t stop, just pulls your hips back and slams himself into you again. You keen, muffled by the gag, but in your ears the pathetic noises you release and your skin slapping together resound so loudly that you’re sure the whole abbey can hear. He proceeds to roughly fuck into you with no regards for volume, the angle just right so he hits you where you need him. With all the pent-up desire for him you approach your climax fast and hard and you stop caring as you try to hold yourself steady as best as you can.

You’re right at the precipice, dangling so close to the edge when the Cardinal suddenly stops. It’s only then that you hear the clattering of heeled footsteps in the distance. You can almost see Sister yelling at you, the most embarrassing images flashing before your eyes, but with every passing second the sounds fade out more and more. You immediately push yourself back, wriggling as much as you can from your cramped position to get him to hurry up.

“Shhhhh.” He slowly rocks into you again, dragging the tip of his cock along your sensitive walls. “We will not rush this, dolcezza, no. I want you to feel every bit of it.”

Carefully, his speed picks back up, insistent hips rolling against your ass until he rediscovers his previous rhythm. With your moans stifled by your panties, the only outlet for your growing pleasure is your tight grip on the statue’s tits. The Cardinal must be close as well because soon he falters, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he clumsily slides his hand down to fumble with your clit. It’s all you need to fall. When you come, pleasure spreads over your body like liquid fire. You clench tightly around him and with a strangled moan he spills into you, twitching and shivering into his last few strokes.

For a moment, you stay exactly like that, stuck in the quiet afterglow with only your laboured breathing as evidence. The Cardinal lets you recuperate briefly after he pulls out, his hands soothing the skin of your hips that he gripped so tightly at the height of his pleasure.

“You did so well, amore, so well. Your Cardinal is so proud of you,” he whispers when he leans down to remove the panties from your mouth. “You are okay? Not too much?”

With your eyes still closed, you hum happily and rest your forehead against the cool metal, wetting your dry lips. He lets the fabric of your dress slide back over your tender backside and you whimper at the delicious pain. As you open your eyes to see him moving into your peripheral vision, he gives you an apologetic smile that you can’t help but return.

“We should go back, amore,” he finally says, tucking his softening dick back into his still wet pants. “I think they will be serving dessert soon and I really want the strawberry cake.”

“I don’t know if I can sit anymore,” you mumble, righting yourself on shaky knees. You can feel his seed dripping out of you immediately. He won’t give you the panties to clean yourself but pushes them back into his pocket.

“Maybe you have to sit on my lap for the rest of the evening,” he says, gently kissing your temple as he pulls you close. “Or kneel under my table hehe.”

You playfully push against his chest. “You know Papa hates it when we do PDA. He says we’re obnoxious.”

“Well, I hate it when he sits on my desk and messes up my papers and he does it all the time anyway.”

His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, brushes a strand of hair from your eyes. Up close you see all of his flushed, freckled face, his black eye make-up smudged into sweaty streaks. You wipe at his messed up lipstick but all he does is lean in to press a soft kiss to your lips. Finally tasting him is all the reward you need and you sigh, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue is gentle as it greets yours and when he breaks away, he smiles at you more fondly than ever.

“You know, we could steal some of the cake from the kitchens and just dip…” you propose, pressing a few kisses along his jaw.

His smile widens. “You always have the best ideas, amore.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3

[xtroublebathx-blog]

Oh dark Cardinal, make it hurt good....

By Ed Rode

[ramblingoak]

Naps With Copia

Nap #4: Un Riposino A Verona

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

For @foxybouquet 💙

Cardinal Copia x Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: Copia being sweet with you while you're on a trip to Italy, sfw, about 800 words

“So what do you think, amore?”  

Copia let go of your hand briefly to get the hotel room door open, placing a hand on the small of your back to usher you inside once he did.  You watched as he removed his red suit jacket and threw it over the back of a chair.  The buttons of his black shirt were next and when you noticed him fumbling on a few you moved close to help him.

“Too much wine at lunch, Cardinal?”

“Bah, no such thing.”  You swatted at his hands when he tried to help you but rather than dropping them at his sides he reached up to cup your face.  It was hard not to lean into the warm leather and you sighed softly when he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks.  “What do you think of Italy?”

You almost laughed because really, that was the silliest question.  What did you think of Italy?  You loved Italy.  When Copia had come to you and asked if you wanted to go with him to a conference here you hadn’t even given him a chance to finish the question.  Two weeks in Verona, Italy with the man you loved more than anything else in the world, how could you say no?  Why would you say no?  

While you were technically there for work the meetings and events only were scheduled in the morning.  After they were done you were treated to some of the finest meals you had ever eaten in your life.  Today’s lunch was spinach risotto (you could still hear the little happy noises Copia had made while eating it) followed by a salad with stewed artichoke and grilled trout.  Normally you would both stay after to nibble on whatever fresh fruit they had to offer and to chat with the other attendees but today Copia had grabbed your hand and swept you out of there as soon as your plate was clean.

So far you had spent most of your afternoons exploring the city.  It had been so special to see Italy through Copia’s eyes and he was always so excited to show you things.  Even more special was how he just seemed excited to show you off to anyone you met.  Today had been no different, your first stop after lunch was to a gelateria and after introducing you to everyone that worked there he had made sure you got samples of every flavor that caught your eye.  By the time you were done you were full of so much good food and so much love you nearly cried when he suggested you go back to the hotel.

“Amore?”

“Hmm?  Oh!  Sorry, Copia.”  You laughed a little, shaking your head to bring yourself back to the present.  Perhaps you had a little too much wine yourself.  To reassure him you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, smiling when you tasted the strawberry gelato that clung to his lips.  “I was just thinking about how much I love being here.  With you.”

Your smile grew when you noticed his blush but instead of teasing him you finished with his shirt and helped get his arms out of it.  While you tried to hang it over the chair to prevent wrinkles Copia wandered over to the plush daybed near the windows of the suite.  You heard him grunt and when you turned around he was already sprawled across it on his back in just his undershirt and pants.  He lifted his head when he heard your footsteps and held out his hands for yours.

“Come now, amore.  Time for our riposino.”

“At least take your pants off.”

It was his turn to swat your hands away and in a quick move he grasped your elbows and pulled you onto the bed next to him.

“Why are you always trying to get my pants off, eh?”

“My apologies Cardinal, it won’t happen again.”  His pout was back and you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your giggling.  “I promise.”

“Let’s not get hasty, amore.  Maybe in a few hours, huh?”  Copia let out a big yawn while he shifted so he was practically wrapped around you.  “Nap first, then we’ll talk about my pants.”  

“Fine, fine.”  You kicked your shoes off and settled more comfortably against your Cardinal.  It was getting harder to keep your eyes open but you couldn’t resist whispering your thanks against his chest, the hair peeking out from the top of his shirt tickling your nose while you spoke.  “Thank you for inviting me, Copia.”

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

After a few more strawberry flavored kisses you both settled further against each other as the window drapes blew gently in the breeze.  From outside you could hear the water lapping against the old stones along the edge of the canal and that along with Copia’s soft breathing was all you needed to be lulled into sleep.

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[ghuleh-witch]

Title: Memories Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, p in v sex, Relationships: Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Copia, Female!Reader Additional Tags: ghovie spoilers, no beta WordCount: 1,935 Summary: After your promotions, you and Copia go back to where it all began. Author's Note: This fic contains spoilers for RHRN. This is part of a collection of one-shots.

Ao3 || Masterlist

The way he walked was different, you noticed. You’ve known him since he was a cardinal, and with each new promotion, his walk changed. It grew more confident—more sure of himself with each step. You knew the transition from Papa to Frater was difficult for him. He agonized about it for weeks, pacing his new chambers and worrying if he’d be the downfall of the Ministry. You held him tightly as he buried his face into the crook of your neck and cried, confessing that he didn’t know what he was doing and that he just wanted to be Papa once more.

The man approaching you now was a completely different person and it was hot.

You were proud of him and all that he had achieved. You didn’t think there were enough words in the English language to express the pride you had for him. He might have felt he didn’t know what he was doing, but he took charge of his new role and wielded it with certainty. 

“Amore,” he said when he got to the table you were studying at. He looked at the books scattered around you, trying to make sense of what you were actually doing before his eyes rested on your face. “I’ve been looking for you. You were gone when I woke up.” 

“Sorry, baby,” you said looking up at him. His painted eyes and upper lip were nothing new to you. It was his casual look as Papa, and now was his signature look as Frater. “I wanted to get an early start to this ritual.”

He hummed in response, looking over the books. “The blessing for the new Papa and the ghoul summoning?”

You nodded. “I wanted to ensure we have everything covered since this is my first time doing this.” With Copia’s new promotion, he promoted you to the head of the occult and magicks department within the Ministry, removing the person his mother had placed in charge. It was a position you wanted and never expected to get, but you supposed being married to the new Frater had its perks. But as much as you wanted the position, it was overwhelming. You had so much to learn and not a lot of time to learn it. 

You felt his gloved hand under your chin, lifting it so you were looking up into his eyes. “You can do this,” he said. 

“Can I?” You asked, your voice wavering slightly as your self-doubt made itself apparent.

“If I can do all this—” He gestured to his new suit. “Then you can do this. I have faith in you.” 

And just like that all your worry and anxiety seemed to be lifted from you. You smiled as his hand left your chin to cup your cheek. You nuzzled into the soft leather of his glove. “I love you,” you said softly. 

His eyes softened and it was like you were looking at the cardinal he was when you first met him. “And I love you,” he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Come on, take a break. Let’s go for a walk.” 

You took his now outstretched hand and he gently pulled you up from your seat, leading the way out of the library and to the doors that led to the gardens Primo had once maintained when he was still alive. You watched as Copia’s eyes took in each rose bush and each lily along the path. You knew how much he missed his brothers and how much he once feared his fate would be the same as theirs. Neither of them talked about the one remaining brother Copia had left, his twin. Copia knew his twin existed and vaguely remembered him, but for the most part, they grew up separately and were strangers. 

“I’m proud of you,” you said as the two of you walked hand in hand. “I don’t know if I can say that enough.”

“I know, amore,” he responded, his fingers squeezing yours. 

The two of you came to a secluded section of the garden surrounded by brightly flowering bushes and hidden by the low-hanging branches of a weeping willow. 

“Do you remember this place,” Copia asked, turning to face you and taking your other hand in his.

“This is where we first met,” you responded. “I was out here hiding because I thought I made the biggest mistake coming here.” 

“And I heard you crying and found you sitting against the tree,” Copia said. “I think I fell in love with you then and there.”

“Even though I was ugly crying?”

Copia chuckled. “You could never be ugly, tesoro.” 

You laughed. “Oh, I was definitely ugly that night,” you said. “But you were so patient and sweet. I knew you were special.” You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. “And for the record, I think I fell in love with you that night too.” You dropped his hand and cupped his cheek, pulling him down to meet your lips. “And here we are, six years later, married and with you the head of the whole shabang.” 

“It’s certainly been a ride, eh?” His lips met yours in a sweet peck as his forehead rested against yours. “I don’t think I could have done any of this without you.” 

You smirk. “Definitely not,” you replied, teasing him and poking his belly.

“Oh-ho, cocky now all of a sudden,” he laughed, his mismatched eyes staring into yours. His hands found themselves on your hips. “And here I thought we were having a moment, amore. We shouldn’t let your head get too inflated now, eh?”

“And what are you going to do about that?” You asked, egging him on. 

Before you knew it, he had you backed up against the wide trunk of the tree. His rested on either side of your head, caging you in. 

“I’ll fuck that ego out of you,” he purred, head dipping to place a kiss on the spot just below your ear that always drove you wild. One hand left the trunk of the tree and ran up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your habit up as he did. “I know you’re already wet for me.”

“Look who has the ego now,” you breathed, heat flooding every part of your body as his lips continued to kiss your neck.

“Ah, but I’m allowed. I’m Frater Imperator after all,” Copia murmured as his hand left your thigh. Both hands began to open the buttons of your dress allowing your breasts to spill out. He was pleasantly pleased that you forwent your bra. He ducked his head to kiss down your chest and the tops of your breasts. 

You let out a soft sigh, hands coming up to his hair. You felt the soft strands being held back with just of bit of gel and carded your fingers through them. He was grayer than when you first met, but you adored the way he aged. 

His mouth left your skin and came back to your lips as his hand slid down your body. He hiked up the hem of your dress and found your panties. His hand cupped your mound, putting just enough pressure on you to make you moan into his mouth. He pushed the fabric aside to slip his fingers between your folds and to your clit. He broke the kiss, staring down into your eyes with a satisfied smirk.

“Knew you’d be wet already,” he said as his fingers moved over your clit. 

“Copia,” you moaned softly, head falling back against the trunk of the tree.

“Yes, amore?”

You were at a loss for words. You felt like your brain was short-circuiting. “I—” you began but didn’t finish. 

His chest rumbled in a chuckle. “You?”

You were so close already. Your moans escaped in breathy pants. “I’m close, baby,” you managed to say. As soon as you said the words, his fingers left you. You whined as your eyes popped open. “Hey,” you protested. 

“I told you I was going to fuck the ego out of you, didn’t I? I don’t want you coming just yet,” he said, turning you around and positioning your hands on the tree turnk. He gripped your hips and moved your legs how he wanted. “I want you coming around my cock.” 

You glanced over your shoulder to see him fumbling with his belt and zip of his pants. After a few seconds, his cock was free and his pants pushed down his thighs slightly. His hands returned to your body, pushing your dress up and pushing your panties aside once more.

“Do you want this?” He asked, leaning over your back and brushing your hair aside so he kiss your neck.

“Yes,” you said. He didn’t have to ask you every time you two were intimate, but you loved that he did. “Please.” 

“ La mia brava ragazza (My good girl) ,” he breathed in your ear before gripping your hip tightly and pushing into you. 

You moaned in unison as your nails dug into the bark of the tree. “Fuck,” you panted as he bottomed out in you. 

“So tight,” he groaned, a hand coming up to palm your breast as his forehead rested against your shoulder blade for a moment. “Always so tight for me. Prendilo tutto (Take it all) .” 

“Please move,” you begged, knuckles turning white from your grip on the tree. “Please, Copia, I need it.” 

“Beg for it again, amore,” Copia said, squeezing your breast.

“Please,” you begged again. “Please move please.”

“ Sembri così carina quando implori (You sound so pretty when you beg) ,” he said before pulling out and thrusting back into you. Each thrust was punctuated, hard, and deep making your moans and whimpers grow louder and louder. You clenched your eyes shut, reveling in the sensation. You felt a hand leave your hip and come around to your front, circling your clit. The white-hot coil in your belly grew tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. 

“Copia,” you gasped. A desperate whimper left your lips. “Baby, I’m gonna come. Please let me come.” 

“Feeling humble now, are we, tesoro? Vieni a prendermi bambina (come for me baby),” he growled as the pace of his thrusts quickened.

The change sent you over the edge. You came hard, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in one long moan. Your nails were ruined by how hard they dug into the bark and your legs shook as they struggled to keep you up. Not even a second later, you felt Copia release in you, his thrusts losing the pace he established as he pulsed inside of you. 

His arms encircled you as he leaned across your back. “You okay?” He panted.

“I’m perfect,” you said breathily as you turned your head to kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, eyes shining with adoration and warmth for you. He gently eased himself from you and pulled your panties back in place and your dress back over your hips. 

You turned around slowly, leaning back against the tree as your heart rate returned to normal. Copia tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt.

“How about we go get cleaned up and I’ll help you finish up your research,” Copia suggested, fingers brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. 

You smiled and nodded before intertwining your hand with his. “Let’s go,” you said before the two of you made your way out of the gardens and held even more memories now.

[ghostchems]

on leather wings - papa emeritus iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

a/n: it's finally here! 2.7k words. fucking, fingering, rough sex kind of, copia being adorable, etc. etc. mdni! 18+! hoping to get myself out of writer's block with this one :') ao3 link! and yes... i named this after an ep of btas

You step out of the car, a ghoul quick to take your bag from you, and you are met with a black Victorian home with an impeccably nurtured lawn. It looks warm and inviting, like there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you inside. You make your way down the short gravel path to the front door, entering the code you had been texted not long ago. The latch clicks and you twist the knob, pushing the door open and stepping into the dark foyer. A chandelier hangs in the center of the room, dimly lighting the intricate black and red wallpaper and the antique mahogany display case that is filled with witchy decor. A small smile flickers across your face as another ghoul enters the room and whisks you away down a hallway.

At the end of it is a grand dining room with a lush fireplace heating the room. You immediately see him, standing behind the chair at the head of the table, dressed in his usual tattered suit and blue cravat. 

“Ah, amore, you made it! I hope the instructions, eh, weren’t too… confusing. I was quite a bit excited when I wrote them.” Papa clasps his hands together in delight. He saunters over to you, his lips pulled into a wide grin. You are quick to meet him, his hands reaching to hold onto your arms and stroke along the backs of your elbows. “How are you? How was the drive, eh?”

“I’m good and it all went smoothly but, Copia, what is all this? Is something going on?” You are excited of course but you can’t help but feel concern. Something about this – the instructions, the ghouls, the dining room table lined with delicious food – has a last night on Earth vibe. The broad smile on his face helps ease the feelings though.

“Nothing to worry about, amore.” Copia can sense your unease, his words light and even. “This is a treat for you and I, something different… something nice, something just for us.” He gives you a knowing look. Copia was never one to complain about his duties even when he was at the brink of exhaustion but it pained him to let it affect your relationship. There’s been less time for you in his schedule and while you understand that his role is extremely important to the Clergy there were times you felt a bit overlooked.

“I was thinking about dinner and then maybe a movie, eh? A classic date.” He is adorable and you can’t get over it. There’s something about Copia in this setting that makes your heart race and your cheeks red. Your eyes flicker around the dining room again, thinking that maybe the two of you would have ended up in a home like this if they lived drastically different lives. 

“That sounds… perfetto.” Copia’s face lights up at your poor sounding Italian. He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, intimate embrace. His breath tickles your ear and he gives it a soft nip before pulling away and squeezes your arms once again. 

A movie night that won’t get interrupted by Sister Imperator or one of her secretaries? Your face lights up. It’s been so long since the two of you were able to enjoy each other’s company without some kind of interruption.

Dinner truly is perfect. He made you your favorite: seafood fra diavolo and he makes sure to give you extra shrimps since they are your favorite. Copia has your wine glass filled every time it goes below halfway and he is constantly asking how the food is and if you need anything, anything at all. Copia’s gaze hardly leaves you, he spends most of the dinner holding your hand, playing with your fingers, that you end up almost yelling at him to actually eat between small giggles. 

Having him to yourself like this is almost overwhelming. Gradually, after you’ve finished forcing Copia to enjoy his own food, the two of you make your way to the cozy, witchy den and onto the couch. 

“What movie? I’m sure you already have one picked out.” You shift closer to him on the couch, your knees touching now. Copia takes the blanket beside him and opens it, draping it across the two of you before he leans against you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Ovviamente.” He breathes against the shell of your ear. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula, if you are still in a, eh, spooky mood.” You can feel him smile into your neck and you suck in a sharp breath, snuggling even further against him under the blanket. 

“That’s perfect.” Your voice drops to a whisper. Copia’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him and nestling you against his chest before starting the movie. It feels almost magical that you’re able to sit here with your love in comfortable silence while watching one of your favorite movies. There’s never any silence at the abbey, not until the later hours of the evening when you’re finally able to see Copia after a long day of his duties. The only interruption comes close to the end of the movie when his lips press to your neck, sending a thrill down your spine.

“I have a surprise for you. Una piccola sorpresa.” Copia murmurs against your hair, feeling his breath huff against you. “Meet me upstairs, per favore? Give me like, eh… ten minutes?” You tilt your head up to look at him, taking in the soft smile on his face and you give a small nod. He presses a kiss to your forehead and gets up from the couch, leaving you alone in the den. 

This all feels so special. More special than anything he’s ever done for you in the past. You know why it had to be a secret. You would have told him to get some rest instead of planning an elaborate weekend for the two of you. He deserved to have time to himself, to relax after touring the world with the ghouls. But it was just like him to want to spend that time doing something nice for you. This is the first time the two of you have been able to get away from the abbey since you started seeing each other.

And it’s perfect. Your eyes sweep over the den, the spooky decor and interior making you feel right at home. You’re already buzzed from the Papastrello and you feel cozy under the blankets. The grandfather clock in the room ticks away, your eyes fixated on the time, mindfully counting down until ten minutes had passed. You can’t keep your Papa waiting. 

After the minutes go by, you start to head up the stairs, anticipation in your steps. The door to the bedroom is slightly open and you try to get a peek into the dim room but you don’t see Copia. You push the door open with a small creak and you immediately hear Copia groan from the bathroom, which stops you in your tracks. You’re sure you’re not too early… but you don’t want to disturb him even though it sounds like he could use some help. You push the door open a bit more, slowly and step inside.

“Amore? Is that you?” Copia asks in a hushed whisper, stress hanging in his voice. For a moment you’re too anxious to answer but you manage to squeak out a response.

“It is.”

“Oh, bene bene.” He sighs, his relief evident in his voice. “I am, ugh, having some trouble with the surprise.” 

“How can I help?” You are quick to make your way to the bathroom door, trying to listen in to what’s happening on the other side.

“Fuck. It’ll ruin la sorpresa.” He grumbles to himself “I-I’m sorry you couldn’t see me, eh, completely done.” Before you’re able to tell him not to be sorry at all he emerges from the bathroom and your mind goes completely blank. Even in the lowlight you can see the blush creeping up his freckled shoulders and cheeks. Copia is wearing nothing but a small pair of black briefs, his black gloves with skeleton details and half of his batwing harness, having secured it through one of his arms but not the other. “I, heh, usually have some help getting these on.” 

Your mouth opens but you can’t manage words, making an embarrassing grunt as you nod and move in to help him. The leather straps to the harness are smooth in your hands and you work to make sure the other wing is secure before moving to his chest. A breath catches in your throat as your fingers brush along his chest, nails lightly scratching at his chest hair while you pull the leather straps through their buckles. Your cheeks are already burning and you hear your heart thunder in your ears. A groan leaves his lips, his hot breath grazing your forehead which makes your eyes flicker up to his. 

Copia’s eyes are dark with devilish lust, his lips parted as he sucks in a sharp breath the second your eyes meet his. His securely fastened arm reaches for you, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of your top to tug you in closer to him by the waist. By the time you finish the last buckle, he has you pressed to his chest with your arms trapped between the two of you. He lifts his other hand to grip you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. Your noses are almost touching as your eyes drop to look at his lips.

“Do you like it, amore?” Copia murmurs huskily, his lips hovering so close. You want to tell him that this means the world to you but the way he is looking at you makes it hard to speak. Your lips graze his painted ones so lightly, eyes flickering up to meet his hungry gaze before they squeeze shut as you finally kiss him. The air leaves your lungs when his tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him enough to take your breath away. Your hands curl around the leather straps to hold onto him as he backs you into an antique desk. 

He already has your pants almost off, his hand slipping down the front of your underwear and wasting no time feeling your slick. You moan from his touch, a finger pushing inside of you with ease. Copia shudders and presses his hips to your thigh, his cock throbbing through his tight briefs. He buries his face in your neck as he starts to desperately grind against your thigh while he fingers you, sharp gasps and groans muffled against you. You’re almost light headed by how quickly things have escalated but that doesn’t stop you from slipping your hand between the two of you.

“Do you feel how wet you make me, Papa?” You breathe and he answers with a whine. You push down his briefs, his cock springing free and you take it in your hand, giving it long, languid strokes. Copia shivers, his entire body pausing to take in how good your fingers feel wrapped tightly around him. He lifts his head slowly and your gaze meets his, his pupils blown so wide with lust that they are nearly completely black. You stroke him a few more times before letting go and leaning back on the desk. He huffs at the loss but ends up sucking in a sharp breath as you start to remove your blouse. You take your time, putting on a show for him, making him wait to see you fully. The blouse finally falls from your shoulders and he immediately grabs you, his mouth crushing against yours as his cock presses close to your entrance. 

You moan deeply into his mouth and your hands find the leather straps of his harness again, holding onto them tightly. Copia drives his cock into you with a lewd grunt, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other digs into your hip as he fucks into you. It’s rough and possessive, his thighs slapping into yours with each desperate thrust. The desk beneath the two of you rattles with each violent jerk of his hips and you can’t help but hold onto him for dear life. You feel your climax growing inside of you, your abdomen tightening and your legs starting to tense up. He hooks one of his arms beneath your knee and raises your leg up, allowing him to push even deeper inside of you.

You throw your head back and cry out, the new sensation of his cock massaging your deepest, most sensitive spots making your walls flex around him. Copia is panting heavily between whines and growls, his head lowering even further to mouth and lick at your breasts. He groans into your chest and you feel the vibration throughout your body. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge when his full lips find one of your nipples and he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. You come undone then and there, shockwaves gripping your body and your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. A growl catches in his throat as he spills inside of you, his hips jerking wildly before slowly coming to a stop. His heavy breathes fill your ear, your hands still firmly holding his harness as he finally lifts his head and takes a step back to give you some space. 

“I, eh, got a little carried away.” Copia sighs and runs a hand over his face, his paints already smeared. “You are just too irresistible, amore.” You can see a light blush on his cheeks just underneath his paints as your fingers start to trace along his full lips. 

“Oh, hush.” You smile before chewing on your lower lip. “Sit on the bed. I want to admire your wings.” You gently start to push him toward the bed and he lets you, allowing you to guide him until he reaches the edge. He sits and you push him further so that his back is against the headboard. You slip into his lap and your hands immediately go back to his harness, fingertips grazing where the leather straps and his chest meet. Copia gives a low purr as he leans his head back against the headboard, his eyes falling shut as he basks in your touch.

You’re finally able to get a good look at him now, your eyes taking in how the harness shapes his strong chest. He always looked good in it on stage but this is so much more intimate. The dark straps of the harness stand stark against his bare skin framing his broad chest and extenuating his bulging pecs. Touring had been good to him building softly toned muscle underneath his soft curves that never failed to drive you wild. Now you had him beneath you you couldn't keep your hands off him, tracing where the straps sat snug against his skin, his fluffy body hair tickling your fingertips. They drift over his 666 tattoo while your other hand moves down one of his arms, touching at the strap at his wrist and the tips of his leather wings. He huffs and starts to run his hand up and down your back, his wing brushing against it as his gloved fingers glide down your spine. 

“I love you.” The words tumble from your lips once your eyes meet. He makes the smallest, sweetest sound of affection, as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile before nuzzling into your neck. You feel him squirm beneath you, trying to allow you to continue touching him but his fingers twitch until he finally gives up. Copia’s arms curl against you, pulling you against his chest. His wings press into your bareback, wrapping around your naked body in a way that feels so safe. He holds you there, safe in his embrace, and you don’t dare let him go. Copia raises his lips to your ear.

“Ti ameró per sempre. I am with you always, amore.”

[ashthewaterghoul]

https://www.tumblr.com/ashthewaterghoul/763482572056576000/may-we-have-more-phanter-cuddle-buddies-im

HELLS YEAH LETS GOOOOOOOOO

Phanter Cuddle Buddies - The Full Story

A 3.1k ramble on the entire 'lore' of this hc of mine, and the asks I got about it after posting it. All posts relating to it can be found with the tag #phanter cuddle buddies.

Phanter = Phantom + Copia (Frater)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~

    Phantom landed in a heap on the altar, a story painted across their skin in scars. There were some fresh wounds too - maybe Ghouls trying to hop a ride, maybe it was jealousy it wasn’t them. All Copia knew was that he needed to protect them.

    After Phantom had been taken to the infirmary – the usual checks to make sure a Ghoul didn’t see any damage from the summoning, along with healing the open wounds – Copia introduced himself. He hated how Phantom bristled at the word ‘Master’ and promised that Phantom would always be safe here, under his leather bat-wing.

    “Whenever you need me, and whatever for. I will help you, and protect you.” Copia promised. And he meant every word in whatever interpretation you could think of.

    He checked on Phantom often, also receiving updates from the rest of the pack and Copia could see through every façade the young Ghoul put up. Phantom was struggling with nightmares, struggling to adjust to life topside, and certainly the gawping from the Siblings and pressures from the Clergy weren’t helping matters. Copia could see the piccolo pipistrello falling apart piece-by-piece.

    So, he paid them a visit one evening. And offered something Phantom was in sore need of, a hug.

    Phantom started crying with relief as they sunk down, head on Copia’s chest and arms around his waist. Copia’s hands wrapped around Phantom’s torso and held on tight. Phantom never made any move to let go, so Copia didn’t either. And they both fell asleep together in each other’s arms.

    When Copia woke up, Phantom was still asleep. And when Aether poked his head in for some guitar lessons, he looked astounded.

    “They haven’t slept in this late at all.” He muttered. It was only 8:30am.

    They agreed to let Phantom sleep until their body woke up of its own accord, and that ending up being almost two hours later.

    Phantom looked entirely well-rested and peaceful, but was immediately guilty for Copia having been there the whole night and keeping him from his duties that morning. Satanas, they were like a kit!

    “Fantasma, one of my duties as Papa is to ensure the proper care of all my Ghouls. Being here with you, making sure you’re okay, is me attending my duties.”

    Phantom didn’t feel too much better. But it was something.

    Copia unfortunately didn’t see them again for the days following, but on a particularly restless night, he got up and immediately startled because there was a Phantom on his floor. Copia could see Aether’s keys next to them so either a borrowing or theft occurred. But Copia couldn’t quite care because Phantom was on the cold and rough floor.

    Phantom hadn’t slept well at all for the nights following the impromptu sleep over with Copia. And Aether assured them that Copia would be more than happy to do it again, even offering his spare key for the room that he never used. As Phantom walked into the bedchamber of the Papal suite, they could see Copia with his eyes shut and he look so comfortable that Phantom didn’t dare wake him. Surely that was some sort of offence here? To ruin Papa’s beauty rest? Or did Dew say that about the other guy?

    It was no matter because Phantom wouldn’t wake Copia for their silly little problem. So, just like they had down in the pits countless times, they made do with what they had and slept on the ground.

    By morning they wouldn’t know the difference and would just have to stretch their back out a bit. But something certainly felt different when they woke up. It was soft and plush and warm and Phantom was still on their side, tucked against Copia’s chest. He smelt like stale tobacco that had long settled into woollen sweaters and old parchment.

    And that became somewhat of a routine.

    Phantom would sneak up from the Ghoul den and use Aether’s key to get in. They’d snuggle on the ground, and Copia always woke up at the perfect time to lift them into his bed without waking them.

    “You know,” Copia said as he woke one morning, “you can always ask. No need for sneakiness, pipistrello.”

    “But, aren’t I just being stupid? Shouldn’t I just get on with it like everyone else does?” Phantom asked.

    “If that would make you more comfortable, then by all means. I don’t know about you, but this is quite comfortable for me.” Copia said, wrapping his arms tight around Phantom, and putting a kiss inbetween their horns.

   “This is comfy for me too.” Phantom said, snuggling in further, and kneading along Copia’s tummy. An odd habit of self-soothing they did, and Copia adored because it meant Phantom was with him.

    With the restful nights for them both, Phantom came out their shell a lot more and managed to spend a night or two away from Copia a week. Although they had become great at asking to come over, rather than sneaking in. It took some prompting from Copia for it to start, but they got there. And Copia couldn’t be prouder.

    Phantom’s sleep was often wracked with nightmares and flashbacks of all they went through in the pits. They sometimes would wake screaming and crying in a cold sweat, sometimes they would just blink awake and silently cry, horrendously uncomfortable from their what images their mind would conjure up. Whatever happened, Copia helped. Even if he himself didn’t always wake up, his scent was what Phantom used to ground themself, or sometimes trace along the tattoo on his pec. Just Copia’s presence helped Phantom. “The safest arms in the Ministry” Mountain had said as a joke, but Phantom couldn’t ever think anything else.

    As much as their nights helped Phantom rest easier, they helped Copia too. He was a world-class insomniac – a trait he learned he shared with all his brothers – but something about Phantom helped him sleep easier. It wasn’t any Quintessence; he knows what that feels like. It was just a deep-rooted contentment in his heart that warmed him up as Phantom snuggled in close.

    Copia never had any children of his own, but he felt like Phantom was the child he’d always wanted. They were just so perfect, and he cared and loved them more than he ever had for his Ghouls. It was almost primal the way he adored the Bug and wanted to protect them.

    From anyone else, Papa had felt like a title, a denote of respect.

    From Phantom? It was true, he was their Papa, in any and every way you could imagine.

    One night, when Phantom came up in their fluffy pyjamas that Cumulus had bought them, Copia handed them a gift bag.

    ���I didn’t forget my birthday, did I?” Phantom asked.

    “No, no, il mio bambino.” Copia laughed, “This is for no particular reason other than I want you to have it.”

    Phantom opened the bag, and their eyes watered as they lifted their own spare key for the room from the bag. A little purple bat keyring hanging from it.

    “Even if I am not here, you can always come in. I know for Ghouls even the scent of someone, or their space in general can be a comfort.” Copia said.

    “Thank you.” Phantom whispered; their heart full of gratitude and tears running down their face.

    “You deserve it. And now you can stop stealing Aether’s keys.” Copia smiled, and they both laughed.

    Even during the nights Phantom spent away from Copia’s bed, the sheets still smelt vaguely of them. Copia’s human nose would never be as sharp as a Ghoul’s. Apparently Phantom’s scent was log fires and cocoa but Copia couldn’t quite discern those notes. All he could smell was Phantom. Hisbambino. His pipistrello.

    And for Phantom, they had stolen more than a few things from Copia’s room – shouldn’t have given me a key if he didn’t want me having access to things with his scent – and so they could always smell him too. It would never be as good as the real deal, but it was always a good make-do. And they had they key so they could have the real deal whenever they wanted or needed.

    Even on tour, they often paired up for hotel rooms, or crammed their two bodies into the small bunks. Tiny sofas in greenrooms or sprawled out in parks on adventures. Any and all struggle was worth it to have their solace in their little world.

    But then, it happened.

    Sister died, and Copia ascended to Frater Imperator.

    When they returned home from that tour, Copia was told that he had new Quarters. He wasn’t Papa now; he didn’t need the Papal suite. Okay yeah, that makes sense.

    Copia was handed the key, and so he asked if there were any spares. He was told no.

    “Well, I should like a few made, per favore.” Copia said.

    “Why?” The bishop who had arranged the room change asked.

    “Do I need a reason? I am often forgetful; I should like spares.” He had more authority, they should listen to him now, right?

    “We can get more made or find a locksmith if you forget your key, Papa.”

    “It is Frater now, and I should like a spare. At least one.”

    “Well, it can be considered. But as Frater your safety is of utmost priority. Why should we consider it?”

    Copia exhaled, “It is for my Ghoul. We both enjoy the other’s company, get our own benefits from it.” They were a Church of Sin, if he made it sound like it was something sinful then they would agree, right? “They had a key to my old rooms. I should like to keep that curtesy going as my successor has refused them.”

    A deafening second of silence. Then a deafening crack of laughter.

    Copia locked himself in and cried in his new room. He didn’t realise how much the old place smelled of Phantom until he realised their scent would never grace the new Quarters.

    He tried to go without Phantom, as painful as it was. Maybe it was just a habit he could break even though he didn’t want to break it. The little he now saw Phantom, he knew they were struggling too. Neither of them had been sleeping right, and Copia was very thankful for his Clergy paint hiding his dark purple under-eyes. Phantom was praying that the new masks may still have the googles to hide their own exhaustion.

    Phantom had tried to come up to Copia’s new room on the second night, having not slept a wink on the first. They got up to the stairs that led way to the High Clergy wing, and there was Clergy guarding the stairs. That was new. Phantom just tried to offer them a polite smile and continue on, but a hand pushed into their abdomen to stop them moving.

    “What do you want, Ghoul?” One man asked them.

    “T- to see Copia.” Phantom said.

    “It is late. Frater needs his rest before his first day on the job tomorrow.” The other said.

    “But I always come and see him. I had a key to his old room.” Phantom said.

    “Yes, when he was Papa. He is not Papa anymore. He has no responsibility to Ghouls.”

    Phantom felt like crying or shouting or ripping them to shreds. So, they turned on their heel until they were out of sight, and collapsed to the floor. They stuffed their fleece sleeve into their mouth to stop their sobs echoing and managed to cry themselves dry on the ground. When they woke up, they were in a bed. But any and all hope was quickly ripped away when they realised that it wasn’t Copia’s bed.

    Aether’s Quintessence had known something was wrong, and with a bit of searching, he found Phantom asleep in the corridor. Eyes swollen from crying and absolutely reeking of despair. He picked them up, and brought them back to his own nest, holding them for every second until they woke up.

    A few nights later, Copia tried to go down to the den instead, just like that first time.

    “Where are you going, Frater?” One Clergy guard asked.

    “A walk, I am restless.” He said simply.

    “If his Dark Excellency wants to take a walk that is fine, but one of us must accompany you until you return safely to your room.”

    “It is unneeded.” He assured.

    “It is needed. A rule from the new Papa. To ensure the safety of all.”

    “Well, an old rule from Sister Imperator means that I hold absolute power here. I do not need an escort.”

    “It is certainly something you can bring up in the next Clergy meeting, but for now…”

    Copia gritted his teeth, “You know, gentlemen, this talk has been exactly what I needed to wear myself out.” He turned and left. And it certainly didn’t wear him out because he couldn’t sleep for the life of him.

    It’s not right for an Imperator to be so close with the Ghouls.

    They’re a Papa’s responsibility, not yours.

    It’s just not proper.

    Don’t you sleep easier with room in your bed for those who want to satisfy your sinful urges?

    It isn’t safe.

    It’s not your duty anymore.

    The Ghoul is fully grown and has a whole pack, they will be fine by themself.

    No.

    It’s all Copia heard on repeat for the next… how long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? It couldn’t possibly have been years, could it?

    It actually had been nearly two years.

    Two years of not a single night slept well for Phantom or Copia. Neither were permitted to keep anything that smelled of the other and what they did manage to keep quickly lost the scent of its original owner. Whenever Copia was allowed to take a Ghoul on business trips for security, his requests for Phantom were rejected for someone bigger and stronger who would protect him. Texting and video calling didn’t have the same effect when all they wanted were each other’s scents and warmth. They had odd moments they could be together – Clergy get-togethers and the like – but it wasn’t what they craved.

    “One day” had become their mantra, no matter how much it felt it would never happen.

    Phantom was whisked away on tours with the new guy and the distance from Copia only made things worse. Aether had been an okay substitute but even he wasn’t here either. Swiss had been the one to deal with Phantom mainly, others taking over when they allowed. Returning home, all Phantom wanted was to run to Copia’s arms, but he was never allowed anything more than a handshake.

    If Phantom though they knew Hell, this was so much worse.

    Copia still saw Phantom as his child. And to have his child in the same building, the same roof, only a few minutes’ walk away and to not be able to help them or comfort them through the long nights? He was in agony.

    Copia thought Hell would be kinder than this torture.

    But, as always, the Ghouls had a plan.

    Some Clergy had announced retirements, location changes, even a disappearance from one stubborn Archbishop.  To anyone else, if was just unfortunate, but Copia saw a certain pattern to each Clerical change. He knew his Ghouls and it started to feel suspicious to Copia. Swiss’ smirk when he asked all but confirmed it.

    “We’re natural born predators, Frater. You always encouraged us to be ourselves. We’re pack. And we hunt those who hurt our pack.” Swiss explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

    Aether and Mountain had been spearheading their silent insurrection to ensure that no one actually got murdered, no matter how much they may want it, well… apart from the Archbishop but the Ghoulettes were hunting and he was just in the way. Copia got clued into everything, and managed to make some of his own methodical staff changes. But eventually, enough Clergy had been replaced with younger, open ears. The next time Copia proposed a change to the limits placed on what relationship he could have with his Ghouls, the odds finally tipped in their favours.

    When Phantom got that text, they didn’t believe it. They asked just about every Ghoul they could find to speak it to back to them so they knew they were reading it correctly.

    *Get your comfiest pyjamas on. Get the blanket and stuffie of yours I love. And get up here. I have something for you, pipistrello.*

    Well, they have never moved faster in their entire life, and they’d been hunted what-must-be some world record number of times. Their chest was burning by the time they were at the staircase to the High Clergy wing. They half expected it to be a trick - one of those prank apps that make it look like calls and texts are coming from people you know and it was actually bored Siblings or Clergy playing games with them.

    But no one stopped them. No one stopped them from going up the stairs, from finding the nameplate that said “Frater Imperator”. No one stopped them from knocking. And no one stopped them from jumping into Copia’s arms as he opened the door.

    “Oh, mio bambino.” Copia cried too, kissing everything he could reach on Phantom without breaking the anxiety-relieving, bone-crushing, soul-melding hug they had wanted for so so long.

    “Papa.” Phantom cried, they only ever said Frater when they had to because for all intents and purposes, Copia was their Papa.

    They waddled backwards together into Copia’s suite, Phantom closing the door with their tail. After some inordinate amount of time, they broke apart, and Phantom had a good idea what was in the gift bag this time.

    They pulled out a spare key for the new room, their bat keyring hanging off it, and started crying again. They were soothed by that scent of old tobacco settled into woolled sweaters and old parchment that was much more easily described as safety and home.

    Phantom’s own unique scent, the feel of their heartbeat and their little hands kneading along his tummy made Copia’s heart swell. His cucciolo di pipistrello in his arms again, where they should’ve been the whole time. Right where they belong.

    It may have been years, but Phantom and Copia’s bodies easily remembering the dance of snuggling into each other and burrowing down for a bit of rest. For the first time since they got home from that last tour, they both found themselves easily drifting away to the dreamworld. Although when they woke up, they would remember that their dreams from the last couple years had finally come true. But for now, they slept.

    And by Satan that night of sleep was the safest, deepest and just the best in either of their Hellbound existences.

One shot master post can be found here!

[copias-girl]

Lenten Sacrifice

Antichrist Popia x Catholic Reader

A/N: So Ash Wednesday was on Feb. 22 to mark the start of Lent, and instead of solemnly repenting, I was thinking of this. Since I’m on my way to hell, does anyone wanna tag along? <3

•♥︎𖤐₆⁶₆𖤐♥︎•

You’d just gotten back from Ash Wednesday mass, strolling through the grand halls of the ministry until you reached your beloved’s papal suite.

Upon opening the large door, you were met with the graceful sight of Copia, sitting on the sofa, waiting for you with a predatory glint in those dichromatic eyes. He wore his black ruffled blouse; the fitted leather vest that he wore on top was embroidered ornately in gold.

“Papa.” You greeted the man, a shyness suddenly coming over you.

Copia remained silent, instead just rising to his feet and adjusting his gloves while he pierced you with his sharp gaze.

You swallowed nervously, intimidated by the man you called your lover. You found yourself taking a small step backwards as your Papa slowly stalked towards you, only halting his steps once he was right in front of you.

He looked you over, huffing out an amused little scoff at the ashes on your forehead.

“No kiss for Papa?” Copia prompted you, and you immediately closed the gap between you, reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders as you eagerly kissed him.

Copia’s arms were snaking around your waist as he forcefully deepened the kiss, letting out an obscene moan that you hungrily swallowed.

He loved the way your kisses would sting at his lips and tongue after you’d taken holy communion. His cock hardened at the way your fingertips would burn his skin after you’d dipped them in holy water.

It was gravely unconventional, a good little Catholic girl like you dating the Antichrist. Copia’s congregation found it strange, and if your mother ever found out, surely she’d be planning your funeral. But love doesn’t discriminate; and you truly did love each other.

Suddenly, your Papa pulled away, panting as a glistening saliva string still connected you. Lust swirled heavily in Copia’s eyes as he studied you while he caught his breath. These singeing, after-mass kisses never failed to rile him up, the bit of pain mixing with the pleasure to create something even more maddening. Your Papa was such a dirty old man, relishing in the taboo aspect of your relationship; getting a thrill out of the fact that he was corrupting such an innocent little thing like you. Reveling in the fact that he, the Antichrist, had taken your precious virginity and continued to ravish you every day that you visited him at his unholy ministry. Copia delighted in the thought that your family and your church would be absolutely appalled to find out that you were dating a man who was a whole lifetime older than you; and the Antichrist nonetheless. He was everything you had been warned about, and yet you took a big bite out of the forbidden fruit, the decadent juices dripping down your chin.

“Tell Papa, Dolcezza, what did you give up?” Copia asked.

“Wh-what?” You squeaked, a hot blush painting your cheeks as you gazed up at him.

“What did you give up, hm? Cioccolato?” He smirked condescendingly.

“Y-yes…” You cast your gaze down in chagrin, feeling silly.

“Ahh, you give up cioccolato for your god like a good little girl, yet you come here and suck the Antichrist’s cock every day.” Copia chuckled, causing your cheeks to burn in shame.

“I-!” You tried to protest, but your voice died in your throat as you realized you had no rebuttal.

“I wonder what your god would think about that, eh?” Copia growled, eyes glinting with dangerous mischief.

Before you could muster up a reply, the man turned on his heel, plucking something off the table, tearing the wrapper, and holding it up to you.

Your eyes widened as you stared at it. Damn it, pink chocolate. Your favourite.

Your uncertain eyes nervously flicked up to your Papa’s.

“Go ahead, little one. Take a bite.” Copia’s voice was eerily calm, almost verging on passive aggressive. When you made no move to obey him, the man clenched his jaw.

“Dolcezza, do you love Papa?” He asked, feigning hurt.

“Of course I do, Papa!” You cried, desperately reaching for him, upset that he’d think any differently.

“Then take a bite, Topolina mia.” He insisted. “Be a good girl and break your Lenten sacrifice for me, si?” A smirk was playing on Copia’s painted features as he taunted you.

Conflicted and guilt-ridden, your wide doe eyes stared into his half-lidded ones until you eventually nodded hesitantly. A small, barely-there little nod.

Eyes glimmering with delight, your Papa held the pink chocolate bar up to your lips once more, satisfied when you timidly leaned in and took a bite.

“Ah, what a good girl for Papa.” The man purred, discarding the chocolate onto the coffee table. He didn’t ask you to eat more, didn’t demand you to finish the entire bar, he just wanted you to take one bite. And somehow, that was even more despicable, because he made you eat just enough to have you breaking your sacrifice for him.

But who were you fooling? You’d do anything for your Papa, anything at all. He had bewitched you, and you were his willing victim.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Copia felt the exact same way about you. You were pretty clueless to the fact that you had the mighty Antichrist under your spell, all wrapped around your little finger.

Copia leaned in and gave you a kiss, humming at the taste of the creamy ruby chocolate on your sweet lips as you needily kissed him back.

“Such a naughty little thing, you are. Playing both sides likes this.” He teased you as you squeaked out pitiful protests, trying to tell him that no, you were good, you were a good Catholic girl. But how could you be, when you were with this man? You felt oh so dizzy; dizzy from his sinful kisses and dizzy from trying to justify your actions.

You gently bit Copia’s lip as he deepened the kiss, your tongues swirling together passionately as you helplessly melted into him, running your fingers through his luscious grey hair. You whimpered into his mouth when you felt his long, thick, hard cock straining against the corset of his pants and grinding into you; all while his gloved hands wandered lower, reaching under your short, frilly dress and grabbing two handfuls of your ass.

Before you knew it, you were being dragged into the Antichrist’s luxurious bedroom and forced into your knees.

“Fucking tease.” Copia growled, unlacing his pants with skilled gloved fingers. He pulled his heavy cock out, already reddened and weeping considerably as he ordered you to open your pretty mouth.

He didn’t give you any warning before he shoved his length past your lips, grabbing a fistful of your hair and beginning to fuck your face at a brutal pace.

You moaned in surprise, gagging on his cock as tears immediately began welling in your eyes. You did your best to take all of his impressive length, choking and coughing when the sensitive head of his cock hit the back of your throat over and over again. Your sounds were music to Copia’s ears, only spurring him on further.

“Do you go to confession after sucking Papa’s cock, Dolcezza?” Copia chuckled cruelly. “Do you get on your knees and pray for forgiveness? I only- fuck- I only want you to get on your knees for me.” He hissed, gazing at the ashy cross on your forehead as he continued to thrust roughly into your mouth.

You squealed out a humiliated moan around his cock, tears spilling onto your flushed cheeks as you stared up at him with bleary eyes, bracing your hands on his muscular thighs.

“You belong to Papa, little one. No other god, just me.” Copia snarled.

“You understand, si?” Using his grip on your hair, he pulled you off his cock so you could answer, satisfied when you only nodded rapidly while coughing and gasping for air. Barely giving you a break, Copia forced his cock back into your mouth as soon as he got your affirmation. Your Papa could be so merciless sometimes, but that was just one of the many exciting things you loved about him.

Gripping the sides of your head and continuing to fuck your throat, Copia growled out obscene moans, panting heavily. Shoving his length as far in as it would go, he held you there for a few moments, gurgling and sputtering around his girth while your nose pressed into his happy trail.

“That’s it, Dolce. My sweet girl.” The man shuddered breathlessly, seeing stars from the way your tight throat spasmed with each dry heave.

You suctioned your mouth around him, wanting to give your Papa as much pleasure as you could. He let out a loud, broken moan at that, beginning to thrust roughly once again.

“You suck my cock so well, oh- my good little slut!” He moaned, hips beginning to stutter as he neared his end.

You were fully crying on his cock now as you took everything he was giving you, his addictive praise causing your heart to flutter.

“Fuck! Oh, this sinful little mouth of yours! Dolce, I’m-!”

With a loud groan, Copia pulled out of your mouth and blew his load all over your face. Thick white ropes of hot, sticky cum painted you; dripping down your flushed, tear stained cheeks, your swollen lips, and even on the cross on your forehead. His big cock twitched as he came; and the man never failed to astonish you with how much he could give you, just cumming and cumming and cumming until he was finally spent.

You must have looked a mess, with cum and drool shining on your flushed and swollen lips, your thick lashes wet with crystalline teardrops. Copia smirked at the sight of you, smearing his unholy cum into the ash on your forehead.

“You pervert.” You pouted as he destroyed your holy marking. “And you got cum on my church dress too.”

Your Papa grabbed your upper arm and hauled you to your feet. “Oh? My little cockslut is worried about her church dress, eh? Her slutty little church dress?” He cooed, stroking a gentle finger across your cheek. “Look how fucking short it is. I’m surprised they even let you into that place wearing this.” He growled, causing you to shiver.

“I-it’s not slutty, you’re just a dirty old man who sees it that way.” You sniffed pitifully, egging him on.

“You call your Papa a dirty old man?” Copia echoed in exaggerated disbelief. “Is that what you think of me, Dolcezza?”

You only nodded, still pouting cutely as you licked some cum off your face, wiping away the rest with your sleeve.

“Well, what does that say about you, eh? You’re a little Catholic girl who loves fucking dirty old men.” Your eyes widened as he turned your quip around on you like a goddamn Uno reverse card. “You’re supposed to be a good little virgin, yet you spread your legs for a dirty old man every day and let him do what he pleases with you.”

“Papa!” You whined, clutching the fabric of his sleeves as you shamefully buried your face in his chest. You loved teasing each other; you loved it when Copia put you in your place. The shame only made your pussy wetter.

Copia didn’t waste any time in shoving you down onto his plush bed, planting a firm hand on your upper back and pushing you into the comforter when you tried to get up. He lifted your dress up over your ass, unceremoniously tearing your sinfully small panties down and off your legs. With a hand on each side of your ass, he stared directly at your pussy, which was dripping with an embarrassingly large amount of slick.

“Principessa, tu sei così bagnata.” Copia gasped, exaggerating his shock just to tease you. “Tell me, Dolce, if you are such a good little Catholic girl, why is your pussy so wet, eh?”

You now willingly buried your face in the bed to hide your shame. “P-Papa please…” You whimpered.

“What would your priest say, hm? If he could see you right now? Soaking wet and begging for the Antichrist’s cock like a whore.” Copia growled, cracking a sharp slap onto your ass and causing you to cry out.

You felt ashamed; what would your priest think? He would obviously be horrified and oh so disappointed in you.

“Does he know you’ve even let me sodomize you?” Copia taunted you with a condescending smirk. “Have you told him that during confession, Tesoro? That I’ve taken your virginity everywhere?”

“N-no!” You squealed, closing your eyes, pussy involuntarily clenching around nothing. You hoped that the wicked man didn’t see, but of course he did; nothing ever slipped by him.

“Ahh, do you like the thought of that, Principessa? Perhaps you should tell him what a naughty little thing you are. How you’ve given yourself to the very beast you were warned against.” Copia purred into your ear, voice dripping with lust. It always seemed as though his accent got thicker when he was aroused.

His fingertips trailed along your glistening slit, teasing just the opening of your pussy and pulling a high pitched gasp from you as he gathered your sticky juices. He pulled his hand away, licking his painted lips and watching as it webbed between his gloved fingers. He flipped you onto your back with one hand while he sucked your wetness off his digits, his intense eyes boring into yours as he did so. You cried helplessly at the sight, feeling an indescribable ache in your core.

After licking every last drop of your arousal off his gloves, your Papa forced your legs apart and, without warning, shoved his face between your thighs, his tongue immediately licking a hot stripe up your pussy and swirling around your clit before giving it a hard suck.

You screamed out at the intense pleasure, your fingers tangling in his soft hair, trying to somehow ground yourself. Copia’s grip tightened on your hips as your thighs closed around your head, grinding right onto his face. Your Papa never failed to make you feel like you were free-falling in the best way possible.

“So pink and tight. So wet for me.” He murmured before licking into you feverishly, slurping up your sweet nectar like a starving man. Your little mewls, yelps, and moans only spurred him on until you were writhing and whining in a pleasure-crazed frenzy.

Copia stopped just short of you cumming, leaving you desperately pleading for more. But within a second, he was ripping your dress off, roughly slinging your legs over his shoulders, and stuffing his thick cock inside your tight heat. He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size, immediately beginning to fuck into you in an almost animalistic manner, hard and fast and merciless.

“Oh! Papa!” You felt like the wind was behind knocked out of your lungs with each of his deep thrusts, causing your eyes to roll back as he stretched you and filled you up so perfectly.

In this position, Copia’s big cock reached so deeply inside you that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He precisely hit every pleasure spot inside you, the head of his cock slamming against your cervix as he muttered out strings of Italian curses.

You were utterly in awe as you gazed up at the man; his mouth hanging open, a few locks of grey hair falling into his face, and panting heavily as he used you as his fuckdoll.

“Take it! Take it! That’s it, Dolce, take my cock!” Copia growled, his gifted eye gleaming dangerously. It almost frightened you, the way it would practically glow in situations like this; but that little bit of fear only served to make you wetter. The grip he had on your hips was sure to leave bruises as he relentlessly fucked into you over and over again, showing you no mercy as tears rolled down your hot cheeks.

“Are you- fuck- are you my good little Catholic cumslut?” Your Papa moaned, trailing a finger across your lower lip.

“Yes, Papa! Aah-! Yesyesyes!” You gasped, lovingly nipping at his finger when it dipped into your mouth.

“That’s right. That’s fucking right, Dolce.” Copia snarled, his hand then trailing down to pinch at your nipples, causing you to arch your back off the bed, your legs tightening around the man.

You wept with pleasure, incoherently babbling and squeaking as you reached up to thread your fingers through Copia’s hair once more, pulling him down into a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongues and broken moans. Every time you were intimate with him, you were absolutely astonished at how hard this old man could fuck you. His thrusts were brutally relentless, taking your breath away; and before you knew it, you were about to tip over the edge.

“P-Papa, I’m-! Y-you’re gonna make me-” Your little voice almost sounded alarmed, helpless, as if you didn’t know what to do.

“Cum for Papa, little one, cum all over my fucking cock.” He hissed, sucking a dark hickey into your neck as his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive little bud.

With a piercingly high pitched moan, your orgasm came crashing over you like a ton of bricks. You wailed your Papa’s name over and over again, pussy fluttering and spasming around his thick length as your grip tightened almost painfully in his hair.

You convulsed under him, nearly feeling your soul leave your body as you just kept cumming and cumming; your pleasure so intense that you even squirted for him.

“Goddammit!” Copia cursed as he pulled out, giving himself a couple quick strokes before he was spilling his hot cum all over your pussy, grinding the sensitive head of his cock right into your clit, causing your eyes to cross and roll back as you moaned desperately.

It was all too much, the sight of your Papa shuddering and gasping as he stared at his seed painting your pussy and mixing with your own juices that were oozing out of you. You whined and mewled from oversensitivity, your legs falling open as your body went completely limp. Copia collapsed on top of you once he was finished, letting out a heavy sigh and wrapping his arms around you. Feeling his full weight on top of you was so comforting, especially as the post-orgasmic euphoria washed over the both of you like gentle ocean waves.

When you’d finally regained most of your senses, you were giving the man a gentle shove, and he rolled off you with a groan.

“Stay here.” You pecked his lips, limping into the living room, completely bare and dripping with your mixed cum.

When you returned, you found your Papa shirtless as he lay against the headboard, his blouse and vest discarded onto the floor, the corset of his rat-bitten pants still undone.

Your gaze swept over his beautiful form; his tousled grey hair, the 666 marking on his chest, the delicious little happy trail peeking out from his pants.

“Che ti preso?” He enquired curiously, but a mischievous smirk spread across his face as soon as you held up the chocolate bar and hopped back on the bed.

You bent down, kissing along his happy trail, his tummy, up his chest. You swiped your tongue over the mark on his chest, causing the man to exhale shakily.

Snuggling into Copia’s side and hooking your leg over his, you took a bite of the creamy chocolate, holding the bar up to his lips so he could have some too.

“I love you, you devil.” You giggled, placing gentle kisses along his jawline.

“Mm, ti amo così tanto, my little angel. Più di tutto in nel mondo.” Papa hummed dreamily, putting an arm around you and holding you oh so close as he gazed at you wondrously, his mismatched eyes sparkling with nothing but love.

Who knew the Antichrist was such a hopeless romantic? You sighed happily as the man leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, simply unable to get enough of you.

The two of you remained in bed for the rest of the evening, sharing pink chocolate kisses and relishing in your sweet forbidden love.

𐕣𖤐 end <3 𖤐𐕣

[ghuleh-recs]

Cardinal Copia had his own Fic Rec Friday and now it’s Popia’s turn. I've compiled a healthy mix of x reader and x ghoul below. A little something for everyone! I may have gotten a little carried away— there's a lot to see here so make good use of your ao3 bookmarks!

Take my hand. Let’s read about the HBIC together. ♡

recs under the cut.

Papa x Reader

Don't Go - @ramblingoak - papa iv x gn!reader

While trying to convince Papa to cancel the tour you end up confessing how you feel about him.

Rough Day - @writingjourney - papa iv x f!reader

papa takes care of you after a rough day.

Your Star Wrapped in My Cloak - @sherwood-forests - papa iv x f!reader

You find Copia in the library, in hopes of apologizing.

VIII Strength - @anamelessfool - gn!reader

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

Forbidden Fruit - @ink-and-dagger - papa iv x f!reader

It's a pleasant surprise to stumble upon the newly ordained Papa Emeritus IV browsing through the library stacks. Even more pleasant that he happens to be halfway up a rolling ladder, and wearing one of his sinfully tight suits. What better opportunity to give Copia's cakes the attention they deserve. Or No snakes needed to convince you to take a bite out of this apple.

Forever Yours - @sweatandwoe - papa iv x gn!reader

Ever since you had entered into a relationship with him, you had learned three strict rules about Copia. One, he did not like to be tickled in any situation. Two, he always had to have a drink after sex. Three, the make-up stayed on. The first two were easy to follow but the third though, was getting harder to try not to bend.

Worship - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x transmasc!reader

Tumblr Request: trans!copia worshipping your body after your t shots have had time to work. he understands how to worship your body properly bc he’s been through the transition, he gets it.

on leather wings - @ghostchems - papa iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

Papa IV x Ghouls

tumblr ficlet - @st-danger - papa iv x dewdrop

"Papa," Dew murmurs, and Copia feels a tremor move through him; there's a particular voice Dewdrop uses when he wants something. Silky and dark and slow. A drawl. It's what he's using now, and he hasn't the ability to deny him anything. And if Dewdrop is about to angle for a little action, backstage and hurried with Copia in his papal robes- well. It'd be sinful, of course. And it would be wrong to not take advantage of that, right?

What's My Name? - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x swiss

"Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?" in which, the audience doesn't refer to Papa as "Papa" and it strikes a chord.

And You Know That It Takes Two - @forlorn-crows - papa iv x dewdrop

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?” When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

tumblr ficlet - @littlemoon-beam - papa iv x dewdrop

He can't look away from his hands, the way the veins flex under his skin as he expertly plays. Copia hears his own shuddering breath, wishing he could feel them on his skin even if only for a moment. He'd worship every fingertip if given half the chance. What really gets him though, what makes his chest tight and his stomach twist, is when he finishes and smiles, head tilted and eyes bright. "Was that ok, Papa?"

Changing of the Seasons - @kissingghouls - papa iv x cirrus

Cirrus and Copia share an umbrella on a rainy day.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

[deathwitchmorton]

I always wanted to know, am I one of the few kinda frustrated that Copia's white suit and jacket did not match entirely? His pants are SO white, the leather of his jacket is cream or ivory, yet the fabric of the jacket is still off. As a white suite Cardi lover, I'm still perplexed. Does anyone know why the two peices do not match? Was it intentionally made that way for media, or simply I'm thinking too hard on a white suit.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 8th - Praise (Frater Imperator x Female!Reader)

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Established Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Mentions Of Death, Praise, Body Worship, Oral Sex, Riding, Light Possessiveness, Unprotected Sex, Cumshot, Aftercare, Fluff And Smut, 2nd Person POV

Copia stares blankly into the mirror, fiddling with the cuffs of his newly tailored suit. It hasn't been long since his recent promotion, and since Sister Imperator... He still couldn't think about that for long without crying, so he decided it would be easier to bury his grief. He was able to avoid the anguish and anxiety that was slowly eating away at his very core for months, but now that he was seeing himself in the uniform, it's all he could think about.

He almost didn't recognize himself. Change wasn't easy, he already knew that very well. When he first ascended to Papa, he struggled way more than he let on, despite how he prepared for this moment pretty much his entire life. But now the role of Papa, everything he's worked towards for decades, is gone; now what? It's bad enough he had to give up his beloved title, that's fine, he'll get over it, but at the cost of his mother? He couldn't handle it.

A tear escapes his eye, quickly wiping it away with a leather-covered thumb, smudging his eye paints. He sighs frustratedly, smoothing the fabric of his jacket. No matter how much he adjusts himself, he can't seem to look quite right. Everything about this feels wrong. As he sniffles, wallowing in his self-pity, he hardly notices you entering the room, coming up behind him and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You look very handsome." You coo tenderly, running your hands up and down the fabric of his new suit, familiarizing yourself with the feeling. Copia smiled, snapping back to reality at the comforting feel of your soft hands, subconsciously leaning in closer to your addictive touch.

You were always there for him, there to encourage and support him through his transition from Cardinal to Papa. You always knew how to soothe the endless pit in his stomach. But despite the years you've been his rock, he worried that this time might be different. But surely you didn't just love him for his status and power. You wouldn't just stop loving him now that he wasn't Papa, you weren't like that... right?

"You flatter me, amore..." He teased, but the playfulness that was usually in his voice was noticeably faltered as a different type of self-consciousness slowly crept over him. "You... You really like it?" He asks hesitantly, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty.

"You know I go crazy for you whenever you wear a new suit." You flirt, biting your lip as you look him up and down slowly, like an animal staring down a piece of fresh meat. Copia chuckled, remembering the way you looked at him when you first caught a glimpse of him in his Papal robes. It was a mix of desire, barely contained arousal, and worship, the memory pulling a sly smile from his lips. "Do you like it, Copia?" You asked, tone dripping with concern, causing his heart to sink. It was both a blessing and a curse, to not be able to hide his feelings from you.

"I..." Copia swallows against the lump forming in his throat. "I don't... I don't know, honestly. I should be fine. I've known this was coming for a long time, but still, I just... It doesn't feel right. I mean, come on, 'Frater Imperator?' That isn't who I am." He answered, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod along, appreciating his honesty. You reach your hands up to cradle his face, pulling him closer to you and rendering him unable to avoid eye-contact.

"You're right; That isn't who you are." You say, catching him a bit off-guard. Where were you going with this? "You aren't Frater Imperator. You aren't Papa. You aren't a Cardinal. You're Copia, just Copia. Whatever title you have at any given moment, it doesn't define who you are, it doesn't change you. You're still the same man. You're still the man that I love." Copia's breath hitched at your words, his eyes widening and welling up with unshed tears.

"Your mother would be so proud of you. I'm so proud of you. You're going to get through this, you're going to be fine, like you always are. And I'll be right here next to you, every step of the way." Your kind words trigger the tears to flow from Copias eyes, exhaling shakily as some of the tension in his shoulders loosen from the gravity of your words. You'd really love him no matter what form he took, wouldn't you?

Copia suddenly pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. He breathed in your sweet scent, relishing in the comfort you always provided him. You hugged him back, letting him hold you for however long he needed, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I love you, I love you..." Copia murmurs, his voice soft and shaky. "Ti amo, tesoro. Più di quanto tu possa mai sapere..."

You kiss his cheek, your arms wrapped around him like a protective shield. "I love you too, Co-Co. So much..." You mutter, trailing your kisses down to his neck; an innocent gesture at first, but each little kiss lingers for just a moment longer than the last. Copia shivered, the sensation of your lips against his sensitive skin igniting a familiar heat in his gut. Your grip on him tightens, your bodies pressed so tightly together that the two of you are practically melting in each others hot embrace.

"Will you let me show you how much I love you, Copia?" You whisper breathlessly in his ear, your voice dripping with lust. He groaned softly at your words, relishing in the feeling of your body pressed against him, stirring a primal desire within. The last time the two of you were intimate together was before his last show. Since then, it's been complicated, to say the least, caught up in the stress of his new promotion and his mothers passing. It's been a long time, too long. He didn't even realize how badly he needed this, how badly his body had been craving satisfaction, until now.

"Amore..." He gasped shakily, his voice strained with need. "Please…" Your lips were on his in an instant, clashing together feverishly as your fingers tangled in his hair. His hands clutched at the fabric of your clothes, his body responding instinctively to your touch. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air crackling with tension and desire. Copia was completely lost in the moment, his focus narrowing to you, and nothing but you.

You push Copia onto the bed, climbing on top and straddling him, toying with the buttons of his suit, desperately trying to get his clothes off as quickly as possible. He watched you unbutton him, the intensity in your eyes and the hunger etched on your face sent another jolt through his body. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you undressed him with an urgent need. He reached up, tugging at your own clothes as well.

"Mmm, amore..." He breathed, his hands roaming over your body, groping whatever part of you he could. "You're driving me crazy..." Your eagerness was both thrilling and overwhelming, Copia's heart racing as you quickly removed his clothes. Every touch, every graze of your skin against his sent a wave of electricity through him, he was nearly in tears once again. "I know, baby, I know..." You purr, yanking off the final piece of his clothing: his boxers, exposing his already half-hard dick.

"Look at you, my sweet boy..." You coo, trailing your hands over every inch of his body, taking your time to truly admire the sight before you. "So beautiful, so perfect. My perfect boy, hm?" You lower yourself down, kissing all over his soft, squishy belly that you've grown to love so much, trailing your kisses lower and lower until you reach his twitching cock. He gasps as you take it in your mouth, moving up and down on his length, sucking him to full hardness.

His hands fisted the sheets, throwing his head back with a groan and spreading his legs as an invitation for you to continue your ministrations. His eyes close tightly, a familiar feeling starting to build up within him. Knowing he's about to cum, you stop, pulling your mouth off of him, causing him to let out a low, guttural whine, protesting the sudden halt of his pleasure. His body instinctively arches towards you in search of more contact, eyes snapping open to look up at you in confusion.

"W-why'd you sto-" His words catch in his throat as he watches you straddle his hips again, only to impale yourself on his shaft. Copia's reaction was immediate and involuntary, his hips bucking up against your touch with a sharp gasp. You moan in sync with him, starting to ride him at a rhythmic pace. "Fuck, Copia! You're so b-big! You always reach so deep inside me, make me feel so fucking g-good..." You whine, a particular slam of his cock hitting the back of your pussy causing the both of you to cry out.

Copia was completely at your mercy, lost in a haze of divine pleasure and ecstasy. Copia was used to being underneath you, having you dominating and controlling him, but this felt different, softer, gentler. No rules or punishments, no slapping, biting, scratching, no degradation. As much as he loves being ruined by your sadistic wiles, this is exactly what he needed right now. Not fucking, but making love.

Copia's noises were whiny and pathetic, his back arching off the bed slightly as the waves upon waves of pleasure washed over him. His hands clutched at your hips, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control his body's reactions to no avail. "Mmm, more," he panted, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. "Please, I need more, I need you."

"I know, Co-Co. I need you, too. I've missed this, m-missed how good your perfect body makes me feel. How hard you make me cum." You huff, bouncing faster on his dick. "You're everything I've ever wanted, Copia. You're perfect for me. You're mine. All fucking mine." You cry sweet praises, moaning pornographically as you ride him into oblivion.

Copia's breathing grew more ragged with each stroke of your cunt, his mind growing clouded by pleasure. Your words, the possessive claim you made on him, send a shiver through his body. He looked up at you, his mismatched eyes dark with lust, his face flushed. "I'm yours," he heaved, the words punctuated by a sharp gasp. "All yours."

It isn't long till Copias whines and whimpers grow louder and more labored, hips bucking up to meet yours wildly, all signals that he was close. He taps your thigh in warning, and with that, you lift yourself off his cock, allowing him to finish all over his stomach, ropes of cum shooting impressively far, nearly reaching his chest. He sighs, thoroughly satisfied, his body relaxing, save for the occasional twitch.

You grab a few tissues from the nightstand, cleaning up his cum- covered self to the best of your ability. Before you could kick back and cuddle up next to him, Copia sits up and grabs you by your hips, pushing you onto the bed, clumsily positioning himself between your legs. "Now it's time to make mia bella ragazza cum, too..."

His tongue delves in your hole, devouring you like a starved man. The tip of his nose rubs deliciously against your clit, and the mixture of clitoral stimulation and the frantic flicking of his tongue has your orgasm hitting you within minutes, already sensitive enough from his cock. Once he's had his fill of your cunt, he plops down beside you, the two of you laying side by side.

Copia lay on his back, a light sheen of sweat on his bare chest, panting. He turned his head to look at you, a ditzy, fucked-out smile on his lips. "I missed that..." he said, his voice raspy. He reached out to take your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You nod, panting along with him, sweat-dampened hair sticking to your forehead uncomfortably. "Me too..." You agreed.

Copia turned onto his side, shifting a little closer to you. He moved a hand to push a strand of sticky hair out of your face, his touch gentle and tender. He studied your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance. It made his heart surge with affection. "I've been pushing you away, haven't I, amore?" He smiles sadly, his heart twinging with regret for how he's been handling things as of recently. You frown.

"Honestly? You have. But I don't blame you at all for it, not one bit. You just lost your mother and your title, you've been mourning. It's okay that you needed space. You've been going through a lot, my love..." You squeeze his hand reassuringly. Copia sighed, his brow furrowing slightly as he squeezed your hand back, dissatisfied with himself.

"I just... I didn't want to burden you. I know I'm not the most stable person, and with everything happening... I wanted to protect you from everything happening in my silly old mind." He kisses the back of your hand earnestly. "But not anymore. You are the last person I want to be dishonest with, to push away. Not now, not after everything." He assures, looking down at your intertwined hands, focusing on the feeling of your skin against his. This is all he wants. This is all that matters.

"Besides," He grumbles sleepily, pulling your body close to his for post-coital cuddles that he so dearly missed. "You have taught me I am more than just a title, no?"

-

[honeyynymphh]

La Principessa di Papa

Papa IV x Fem!Reader

rating: E

word count: 2k

tags: daddy papa kink, daddy papa dom, praise kink, fingering, dirty talk, cuddles, google translated italiano

summary: after days of being sick in bed, you’re feeling restless. But Papa is always there to look after his little principessa.

read on ao3

You’d been sick in bed for days now. This evening you were feeling much better—perhaps there was still a little bit of a sniffle. So, technically you could have returned to your duties.

However.

Papa’s bed was very comfortable and Sister Imperator had excused you for the rest of the week. Why would you wish to hurry back to your room and listen to Sister Natalie complain about whichever ghoul she was fucking this week? No, you did not want to listen to that—it would probably just bring on another headache. And your bed, while comfortable, was nowhere near as glorious as the one in Copia’s papal suite.

You snuggle further into the bed, a soft hum of contentment leaving your lips as you do so. The bed was warm and smelt of him—all warm spice and hints of leather. It was better than any medicine one of the nurses had tried to shove down your throat. You sighed as you buried your face into a plump pillow, inhaling as you did and revelling in the fact that you could finally breathe again.

Papa had been so busy lately but had still been so sweet the past few days; bringing you tea and soup when he could. Giving you little kisses on your forehead despite your (very half-hearted) protests that he would get sick. He had only chuckled in response and made an offhand comment about only humans getting sick. You had given him a quizzical look but he had merely winked that wicked eye of his at you and sat down at the small desk he had in his room.

Whenever he worked in his suite, he would don his reading glasses. He looked so handsome in them—so distinguished with them perching on the edge of his long nose. Lucifer, it certainly would be nice to have his nose—and his glorious mouth—between your legs right now. You knew he was self-conscious about the glasses (not that he would dare admit it) and so you always made a point to tell him how much you liked them. That and his grey temples. And you were sure he’d been working more in his suite instead of his office in order to keep an eye on you. You smile to yourself at the thought.

For most of the week, you have been so ill you could barely speak but now you were feeling a little restless. And the thought of his face between your legs was making you hot—and it was no fever.

You tossed in the bed and tried to get comfortable, pulling the blanket over your head as you do and pushing your legs against the mattress as you wriggle around again. Copia was again at his desk, he’d been there all evening—the small lamp on the desk was the only source of light. No wonder the old man needed glasses! But you weren’t to disturb him while he was working. You tossed again, thoughts still on his nose and mouth as you pressed your thighs together.

“Dolce, stop writhing around like a worm.”

You lift the blanket up and peek over at him. His face is set in that of concentration, the warm light casting a glow over his demonic visage. He’s wearing one of his old suits—the black one—though he’s ditched the gloves. He’s writing and doesn’t even glance at you. When he pauses to lift a page, you think he’s going to stop for the night but he merely sucks on his teeth in thought and then continues scribbling across the page—muttering something that sounds awfully like, “Terzo, quella spesa eccessiva idiota.”

You roll over again and grab one of the pillows to hug it against you. Maybe you should just tell him you felt better—but you’d been here for days and perhaps he was sick of you taking his bed. What if he kicked you out? He was a very private man and maybe he was tired of sharing his bed with a sick Sister. Though you were sure Papa would have said something, he wasn’t shy when it came to his demands.

But you were so utterly bored now that you felt fine. Bored and restless. And starting to get a little too hot just seeing him sitting over there with those damn glasses.

“Dolce,” comes a warning voice.

Flipping over again to face him, you pout but he still isn’t paying any attention to you. He’s too busy with whatever it is he is working on and so you just sigh and flip on your back to stare at the gilded ceiling. You sneak a glance at him again but he still is immersed in his work and ignores you.

You sigh again, a pathetic sorry sort of whine and you can’t help but smile when you hear the clink of his own being set down and his chair moving across the rug. Soon the sound of his muffled footsteps greets your ears as he comes towards you.

Closing your eyes quickly you pretend to be asleep. Maybe if he thinks you’re having a bad dream he will pay you some attention. You slow your breathing when you hear him approach the bed and try to keep your face as neutral as possible.

“Sleeping?” you hear him ask, a teasing edge to his voice. A hand touches your cheek and you try not to melt into it. “What a pity you’re asleep, principessa.”

A thrill runs down your spine at those words. He only calls you ‘principessa’ when he’s in a certain mood and you are more than willing to play along. You let your head loll to the side, as if in sleep, and feel the bed dip as he sits down next to you. You feel his lips on your forehead as he presses a kiss, lingering a moment as you try to keep your breath slow and even. His breath ghosts gently over your skin as you are enveloped in the scent of him—he must have been drinking whisky at his desk as you can smell it on him. Your sex throbs at the heat and smell of him surrounding you but you focus on pretending to be asleep.

When he leans back you feel the bed shift a little as one of his hands creeps under the blanket reaching for your thigh. You’ve been sleeping in one of his buttoned poet shirts—the silky fabric feeling so glorious against your bare skin, but it feels even better when he pushes it up so his fingers can slowly rub you over your panties. You can’t help but let out a little soft moan but you keep your eyes closed as his fingers keep softly stroking you through the fabric.

You hear Copia breathe out a pleased hum as he pushes your panties to the side so a finger can slide through your wet folds. It’s enough to make you stop pretending and flutter your eyes open.

“Papa?”

His face is above yours, glasses still perched on the end of his nose as a knowing little smile plays on that devilish face. “Feeling better, principessa?”

“A little…” you say, breath hitching as his thumb slowly circles your clit.

“Only a little?” He withdraws his hand. “Maybe Papa should check you all over first, hmm?”

He pulls the blanket down until it’s bunching around your knees. It’s warm in the room but you have been so cosy in bed that it feels cold, you shiver. A hand is against your forehead and you stare up at him.

“You are not hot anymore, that’s good.” His hand touches your neck, fingers gliding down your throat. “Is your throat still sore?”

You shake your head. “No, Papa.”

“Buono.”

You lie there, entirely on edge as he keeps smoothing his large hands over you, occasionally asking how you feel. Is your tummy okay? Is your head feeling better? You relax a little until his fingers begging toying with the waistband of your panties. Your body tenses in anticipation and glance at him.

“What about here, principessa?” he asks, those eyes of his watching you carefully.

“It’s a little achy, Papa,” you murmur, hands fisting the blanket as he runs his thumb along the frilly little waistband.

He gives you a smile and tugs at the elastic. “Up,” he commands softly and you lift your hips so he can pull your panties down and off. “Brava ragazza.”

You try not to squirm when his hands push at your thighs, making you open your legs wide for him, but you can’t help the little noise that escapes you. He moves more firmly onto the bed so your foot closest to the edge is in his lap while the other is behind him as he bends your legs to get closer. You’re completely open to him and he’s staring down at your bared sex with an air of tenderness.

“Your pussy is very pink, principessa, have you been having naughty thoughts?” When his hands move up your inner thigh to spread your slick folds open for him you moan. He merely chuckles. “You have, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Is it very achy, principessa?” There is pressure on your clit again and you hum in response. It’s both a blessing and a curse as it only makes the tension of arousal tighten in your stomach. “Does that feel good?”

A finger slides into your wet pussy while his thumb continues to rub your swollen clit in agonisingly slow circles. You whimper, hands scrabbling to grip the blankets as your body tenses further. A second finger joins the first and you moan out his name while he slowly pumps them into you. His movements are steady and when he curls his fingers deep to tickle that delicious spot within you it has you panting and staring wide-eyed up at him.

“Hmm, la mia piccola principessa?”

You just nod unable to form anything coherent as your walls clamp down in his fingers. It feels so damn good after so many days of feeling utterly awful—your mind too full of delightful pleasure that you can’t think at all.

“Do you like how Papa makes you feel?” he asks again, voice far too calm as you pant and mewl, hips thrusting against his fingers—desperately trying to get more friction as you feel your release nearing closer. “You have to tell Papa or he won’t know how to help his little girl.”

“Yes, Papa,” you say quickly, words tumbling out in one short breath.

He smiles at you affectionately and you can’t help the way you flutter around his fingers. “Good girl,” he coos, thumb now rubbing insistent circles on your clit as his fingers continue to bring you close to the edge. He pressed harder and you cry out a string of unintelligible pleading. “Are you going to come for Papa, principessa?”

You merely nod, brow furrowing as you feel you abdomen tense as your release nears its peak. Copia continues to pleasure you, fingers dancing within you until you finally break—sobbing out your orgasm as you come all over his hand. He doesn’t stop, he merely slows his ministrations—his thumb gently swiping over your swollen clit and making your hips buck.

“Such a good girl for your Papa, principessa.” He leans forward and plants a soft kiss against your temple. “That feels better, doesn’t it?”

Nodding as he removes his hand from between your legs, you sigh in relieved bliss. You feel so tired now, perhaps you were still a little unwell if a single orgasm had you feeling this exhausted. The bed shifts and you close your eyes, murmuring a sleepy, “thank you, Papa,” as you feel him stand. You feel his hands on you again, gripping the shirt you wear and tugging it up. Lazily you lift your arms and sit up a little so he can pull it over your head before you flop back down into the soft mattress. There’s some more rustling of fabric and then the other side of the bed dips and you feel Copia slide in next you. His hands pull you to him so that your head is against his bare chest and you press your face against him.

A contented sigh escapes your lips and you breathe him in. The hairs of his chest tickle your nose but you don’t mind, it’s nice hearing the steady beat of his heart underneath your cheek. One hand is tracing patterns against your skin while the other is in your hair, fingers gently massaging your scalp. He places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Principessa?” you feel the rumble of his voice as he speaks.

“Yes, Papa?”

“Try not to wriggle too much.” He kisses your head again. “Or I’ll give you a reason for your throat to be sore again.”

*quella spesa eccessiva idiota - that overspend idiot

*la mia piccola principessa - my little princess

[zombiequeenblog]

Had a funny headcanon for SADGLO. In 'Bleeding Palms' when Mouse hugs Copia after he gets back the reaction from everyone around them seemed to be mixed. Though some gave knowing hums. I imagine those Siblings that knew,walk down the wrong hallway and finds Copia and Mouse in action. They turn around and decide in good choice to mind their business.

Mild smut below...

If you prefer to read on ao3

This entire abbey was a den of sin, the novice Sister mused to herself, strolling along in a quiet evening solitude. Her dark contemplation was sweet, and comforting as the Unholy Vespers, and nurtured a sort of joy she noticed blooming inside of her more and more often. She didn’t regret her decision to come here, and to stay. In fact, she felt rather proud.

Pride was encouraged here; wrath tolerated. Greed and envy understood; used to improve oneself if so wanted. Gluttony was celebrated in the form of seeking anything better; no shame in the gratification of the senses was bestowed upon siblings in these halls. Even sloth was tolerated, to a point, if one could avoid Imperator’s notice. 

But the sin most freely indulged here, was perhaps lust, for those who so chose to partake. Half of the abbey was fucking each other, their lust spilling over even to the fine denizens of the village below, at times. All a part of their corrupting influence, the Sister supposed, with a sly smile. Hail Satan indeed.

In persona Satan, the Papas certainly had their hands, and their beds, full. Papa Secondo had a growing entourage of favoured sisters, and Terzo had many relationships with many siblings, both long-term and casual. Even Sister Imperator would invite a select few who’d caught her eye, into her and Nihil’s bed for some sweet use as an occasional plaything. And the Cardinal? The musing Sister supposed he fucked, he had a certain lecherous air to him in the way that he skulked about the place. He looked damnably good in those suits too, and the cassock. But his probable partner or partners remained a mystery. 

Perhaps he enjoyed his carnal relations in his travels away from the abbey? Or maybe he had some naughty little secret down in the supposed laboratory below, a dark place he often holed himself up in for days; no one else was allowed down there. Porn or panty-sniffing or something detached of that nature; the Cardinal could have a way of looking at you, a corporeal body willing or at least curious to engage in something with him, like you weren’t worth his precious time. The Sister sniffed a little to herself as she stepped along.

Oh, but she was being a bit mean… The Cardinal was as fine a dark clergyman as the abbey could utilize. He was astute, thorough, and just in his work imparting the faith’s teachings to all souls present. He assisted the Papas probably more than they deserved, and apparently was instrumental in keeping other satanic dicasteries reigned in and on task, if Imperator’s quiet but firm praise was to be believed. Just because he had never been known to finger a girl while she queried him about devilish dogma in the pew (as Papa Terzo often did), didn’t mean he wasn’t fair and sometimes even austerely pleasant in his answering. He gave mass and advice, took confession with feigned concern, and even provided limited medical care around the abbey. He seemed to be highly educated; clearly occupied with himself and yet coolly interested in the further establishment of the place. A solid cog in the wheel, his polished teeth apathetic towards any sweet flesh he could find here. 

It was just too bad for the few siblings who would have followed him into his darkened office, if his sharp leather gloves had but gestured. 

Ah well, the Sister had a lot of time spread out before her to explore every earthly and carnal delight available to her here. Her titillating thoughts so occupied, she almost didn’t hear the curious sounds coming from around the next darkened and solitary corner, as she turned it silently…

There was the Cardinal, of all people! And he was… 

Cassock undone and hatless, he was fucking, clearly fucking hard into someone he was holding down on the narrow hall table there against the shadowed stony wall. The astonished Sister stepped back immediately into the sheltered darkness of an old columned alcove, but she couldn’t look away.

He was fucking the maid that Imperator had brought on some far months back! The sweet young thing who barely talked and mostly kept out of the way; the Sister couldn’t even remember her name at the moment. But it was clearly her, panties pulled down to her knees and short skirt flipped up, bent over flush against the table with his gloved fingers tangled up in her loosened hair. The mousy strands couldn’t hide the flush on her tear-stained cheeks… she was crying! Well, for all his privileged station, he really was a bastard, wasn’t he? The Sister prepared herself to step forward.

The Cardinal bent his head down to the poor girl, and whispered something low, his thrusts into her becoming slow and deliberate. The girl gasped a little and then she smiled; she actually grinned through bitten lip, and then the Sister could see her cant her hips a little, attempting to grind back against the Cardinal’s cock. He gasped himself, clearly trying to be quiet, before he raised his hand to spank the girl sharply, forcing from her a little shriek she quickly stifled with her own hand. The Sister backed up against the wall in the darkness. 

Pulling out of his conquest, the Cardinal flipped her over, and she sat up herself to fling her arms around his shoulders, kissing him breathlessly while he unbuttoned her blouse in a reckless manner. With more of her pliant body revealed to him, he pushed her down again, grasping her hips within his gloves to yank her down to the edge of the table, and wrenching her legs open. 

Clearly penetrating her again, the Cardinal ran his hand up her writhing form to cover her gasping mouth, quieting her little moans with every one of his thrusts and trying desperately to keep his own noises down, his great pleasure apparent, and threatening to overwhelm him in this secretive little tryst. 

The Sister didn’t dare allow herself to breathe. As the Cardinal leant over his compliant prey, erratic thrusts intensifying, and the girl began to hug his waist with her bare knees, ecstatic sounds barely escaping his glove, the Sister thought she’d better evade herself from the intimate situation before its inevitable conclusion. 

Sliding back along the stone, she turned as soon as she felt able to, quickly and quietly returning in the direction she’d come from. Her serene musings had certainly been ruined, and rather uncomfortably exchanged for a bothersome stirring in her private regions. Perhaps she’d seek out a charming sibling for some specialized comfort, or maybe even bolster her confidence to approach one of the Papas tonight. 

Flushing a bit underneath her veil, the Sister let out a breath and tried to process what she had just witnessed. It wasn’t exactly forbidden, it simply seemed more illicit than it was because of their furtiveness and the long-running obscurity of the Cardinal’s lusts. Lust. The Sister certainly had this most popular sin on the brain, itching to get out of her rapidly stifling habit, as she made her way back into the more amply lit parts of the antiquated abbey. A den of sin, indeed, both illuminated and not. Hail Satan and All Sinners, she thought to herself. The unholy night went on.